


Champion's Tale

by SwirliesDominate



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fencing, Friends to Lovers, LARPing, M/M, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwirliesDominate/pseuds/SwirliesDominate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU setting<br/>After traveling across the Waking Sea with his family, Hawke finally seems to be settling into his new home of Kirkwall with a new job, new friends, and new opportunities. A man found unconscious in his bar one night changes everything.</p><p>*updates every Sunday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Chance Meeting

Champ’s was never absurdly busy, so when Saturday night rolled around and brought with it a massive crowd Hawke couldn’t help but grumble throughout his shift. Which was a bit absurd on his own part, considering a crowd meant money -- money his bar desperately needed. But the routine complaints about the cleanliness of the bathroom and the lack of hot chicks was enough to get on anyone’s last nerve. Champion’s Tale, opened just last spring, was smack dab in the middle of Kirkwall, and teeming with everything hip and cool and trending. Or at least that’s what Varric, the other co-owner, reassured him. 

Champ’s was Hawke’s baby. And it was doing okay! Well, more than okay. They were booming, near perfect for this part of town. The drinks were cheap enough to drag in college students and the atmosphere was calm enough that adults could relax here even on weekday nights, when the weather was shit. Walking into this business opportunity had been near the best thing to happen to Hawke -- his family had just moved from across the Waking Sea and were dirt poor. 

There were the twins to look after, and nothing easy was coming to them -- not yet. They had to go to a new high school, their father had just passed, and their landlord threatened to evict the entire family near every month when rent came late. Hawke had barely scraped through high school, but he could at least land construction jobs. One look up and down and he was normally handed a hardhat. Some perks that came from being 6’2, apparently.

And then Varric came along. Handsome, charming Varric, with connections with near every person in Kirkwall and probably everybody else in Thedas worth mentioning. So why he had taken a liking to Hawke’s dumb ass he’d never know; things were just different after meeting Varric. The twins were in a good high school, graduating this year and going off to college, and Mother was slowly working her way up the corporate ladder at her non-profit. And Hawke? Well, he had friends. And a bar. A bar his friends frequently wrecked. 

Still, tonight was abnormally busy. Hawke continued to cleaned martini glasses and grumble, his rumble growing louder when a customer ended up dropping their glass on the floor. “Can I get someone to clean that up?” Hawke called, rotating his glass a few more times before he realized no one could hear him. Merrill peeked at him nervously as she refilled some beer glasses and gave a complaining girl another cherry for her Fuzzy Navel, but didn’t seem to hear her boss over the music. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.” Hawke gave Merrill a pat on the shoulder and went to clean up the broken glass before someone thought to injure themselves. 

Well, the glass wasn’t the only thing that fell. A man lay among the glass, clearly unconscious and needing some assistance. The wide berth around the man was suspicious enough, but the hand on his shoulder made Hawke tense immediately. “Is he okay? I went running for you.” Oh, thank the Maker, it was only Isabela. Together the two were able to pick up the poor man and get him situated on the small mattress in the break room, Hawke pulling what glass he could find from his black clothing. “He’s out fucking cold. Think I should search him for info?” Isabela asked when Hawke pulled back, hands at the ready to search for a wallet in those tight jeans. 

“We’ll give him 30 minutes, see if he comes to.” Hawke insisted instead, brushing back his dark locks with a sigh. This wasn’t their first drunk customer and it wouldn’t be their last. “‘Till then, let’s clean up that glass.” 

“Think he had friends with him?” Isabela asked as they walked back into the bar, her eyes flicking around the room for concerned faces. “Doesn’t look it. He’s too cute to be alone.” 

“Let’s just hope he can wake up and remember his name.” Hawke snorted under his breath as he swept up the glass. “Did Anders come with you?” 

“As if. Boy’s working himself to death at the hospital. He might come near closing though. I’m more worried about Kitten. Is my girlfriend being a good girl?” At that, Hawke finally laughed, the both of them looking towards Merrill at the bar. She was working like a speed demon, though her nervous sputtering was visible from across the room. 

“She’s a wonderful employee, and she knows the drinks better than me, so you’ve got no excuse tonight.” That earned an eyeroll from Isabela, who followed Hawke back to the bar as he dumped out the broken glass. “Merrill! Someone’s here to see you!” 

Oh,  _ now  _ she heard him. 


	2. Drum-roll, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter too me awhile just because I needed to figure out where I wanted to go with all this. And don't worry! There's not going to be any love triangles. I just want to acknowledge the fact that all the DA2 companions are very smoochable
> 
> But yeah, plot! It'll happen, now that I know what to do

“30 minutes are up.” Hawke muttered to Isabela, the bar having drastically quieted since the live band left, most of their roadies following along with shrill calling or drunken laughter. “Watch the bar, will you? And fetch me if I’m not out in 5 -- he might wake and shank me.”

“Could he really?” Merrill asked quickly, her enthusiasm to the idea of Hawke being stabbed rewarded by her girlfriend quickly laughing. “Well, of course I don’t mean I don’t particularly like the idea of you being shanked, or bleeding everywhere, well it wouldn’t be such a big deal -- but it might hurt your feelings, to meet someone like that, and...oh, he left.”

Shaking off Merrill’s excited verbiage as best as possible, Hawke walked into the break room and peeked about the corner. Their guest was awake, from the looks of it, sitting up on the mattress with one leg tucked under him and his face illuminated by the screen of his phone. He must have heard Hawke amble in, because suddenly he was looking up. God, this man looked rough, his white hair jutting in every direction possible, his green eyes mere slits as he glared up at Hawke, nose scrunched up in disgust. “Where am I?” Oh. That voice should not come from such a small man.

And it was angry too, so Hawke was quick to reply, “At Champ’s. You...collapsed back there so I brought you back here to the break room, on the chance you woke up. You fell pretty hard back there; do you need me to call you a cab?”

The man groaned in response and dragged his hand down his face, phone all but abandoned on the mattress, face-down and vibrating with incoming calls or texts. “The bar. Of course.” He sighed and looked up at Hawke once more, seemingly taking in the big, bulky man before him. “My apologies for causing trouble. I was….trying to celebrate.”

“Well that’s all fine and good, but…” Hawke dug his hands into his pockets, unsure as he continued, “You got that drunk, I can’t in good conscious let you drive.”

“Understandable.”

“Did anyone come with you? A friend, maybe?”

Another scalding look. “I came alone.”

“Well.” Hawke clasped his hands awkwardly and glanced down at the smartphone lying on the mattress. “You need the number for a cab?”

“I was looking on Uber when you came in. I’ll be fine. And, again, I apologize. I’ll pick up my tab before I leave.” The man moved in an attempt to stand, and instead wobbled dangerously, clinging to the nearby desk for life. Hawke had all but forgot he was drunk from the way he was talking. Guess he was the angry kind of drunk.

“What was the name under?”

“Fenris.”

Hawke paused at that before giving a small nod. “You get home safe. I’ll ring you up at the bar.”

That done and done, Hawke had never expected to see the stranger again. Fenris paid his tab, stumbled out of the bar into an Uber car, and was off, the only memory of his presence being the jacket he forgot. Hawke hadn’t noticed it until the morning after, blinking blearily down at the black blob on his mattress. The night before had ended with a few more smashed glasses and one bar fight, so Hawke hadn’t gotten the best night of rest. Princess had been absolutely insistent on her walk that morning though, whining at the door and eventually just jumping into bed with Hawke when he refused to wake from his slumber.

“Lost-and-found you go.” Hawke sighed as he grabbed an extra hanger from the coat rack out front. In his hands this jacket was so...tiny. Not that Fenris had been tiny -- he’d almost been as tall as Hawke, with some muscle he had felt as he carried the drunk elf to the next room. But it must be a lean sort of fit, because Hawke was afraid he’d rip the jacket just by looking at it.

“Hawke?” The door to the bar clanged open, the voice that called out remarkably unmistakable. The person paused right by the bar, running his hand along the smooth wood before taking the first seat.

“Anders, hey!” Hawke hurried from the break room to greet his best friend, the two of them meeting half-way in a rib-crushing hug. “Isabela told me you were working yourself to death. Look at you! When was the last time you ate?”

“The last time I had a second to breathe.” Anders laughed, leaning his elbows on the counter as Hawke walked around to grab some food from the mini fridge he kept there in secret. “So approximately 9 hours ago. Gimme, gimme.” Hawke handed over a salad to his friend, watching as the poor nurse scarfed it down like it was his last.

“I’ve been told that 9 out of 10 doctors recommend chewing.” Hawke mentioned lightly as Anders reached the halfway point of his salad. Apparently his words were unwelcome, because Anders only spared him a second to glare before digging right back in.

This wasn’t an unusual exchange between the two of them, in all honesty. Anders was the one friend Hawke had managed to make without Varric’s help (though who knew, maybe Varric was still involved!) and he was damn proud of it. Anders was his best friend in the whole world, a relatively startling realization considering the fact that Hawke had only been a resident of Kirkwall for some three years now. Anders came in year three, via something that felt like a romantic comedy. Anders was so sleep-deprived and distracted that he ended up running right into Hawke while the man was on a walk with Princess -- they ended up falling on the grass and getting tangled in Princess’ leash as she bounced around them. A string full of curses and some very unappreciated ‘ooh’s and ‘aw’s by the crowd later, the two men managed to untangle themselves and shuffle awkwardly away.

It had to be one of the single most awful experiences in Hawke’s life, and he imagined he looked more akin to a tomato than a person at that moment, but Anders just laughed. Then recognition sparked between them -- hey, that guy owned Champs! & hey, that guy started ranting about the Chantry and threw a bottle of brandy through my front window!

Instead of offering to pay for the window that he broke a week back, Anders invited Hawke over for dinner and it just kind of went from there. And through that, Hawke got to meet Anders’ nice boyfriend, Karl. Who he was still with. Today. And Hawke was totally not bummed about it. At all.  
So Hawke was single! He had been since he arrived in Kirkwall! And that was okay! He met Isabela, who was dating Merrill, and managed to get over that. He met Anders, who was dating Karl, and still sometimes sniffled about the injustice at night when he lay alone. But before all them, there was Varric. Varric, who was……...not interested at the moment. The world was filled with too many beautiful, wonderful people, and Hawke could not smooch any of them. But he could be there for them, and that was honestly a reward in itself.  
All it took was making sure Anders was eating right, Isabela wouldn’t start fights she couldn’t finish, and checking in on Merrill to let her chatter. That sort of thing. Even Varric needed a second opinion on some matters.

So when Anders stretched and thanked Hawke for the meal, he was more than content just to know he made a small difference. “No problemo, compadre.”

“Ugh, Maker, please never say that to me again.” Anders snapped the plastic container closed and aimed for the trash, a silent moment of pride when he actually managed to hit it. “On the other hand, please continue to feed me in the future.”

“You know I’m not the one intending to eat those salads. Make it up to Merrill.” The two of them moved back to the break room, Hawke catching a glimpse of the leather jacket still hanging on the lost-and-found rack. “Hey, you know….this really cute guy stopped by last night. I heroically saved him and everything.”


	3. Black Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris returns to the bar to recover his coat.

Sunday was never busy, so when a  familiar stranger came sulking in, Hawke noticed immediately. “Our first goal is to get him laid.” To Hawke’s sudden horror, he realized his friends were still gossiping about him -- loudly. “When was the last time you dipped your feet into that end of the pool, huh?” 

“Anders, shut  _ up. _ ” Hawke hissed, not a moment too soon. Feeling all three sets of eyes on him, Hawke slowly made his way down to the seat Fenris had situated himself in. “Hey, good to see you again.” Trying not to sound too weirdly chummy, Hawke cleared his throat and tried once more. “You, uh, here about the jacket?”

“I’m afraid so. You’ve seen it?” Fenris asked, resting his elbows up on the counter and scooching closer. For one horrible moment, Hawke considered lying. Maybe if Fenris never found his jacket, and Hawke kept telling him to check back, Fenris would continue to return to Champs. And that way they could learn more about each other. Only problem was, this plan was totally creepy and / or disturbing close to serial-killerish.

Fenris was attractive,  _ yeah,  _ and looked like he lived an interesting life, but now was definitely not the time to start getting all weird. Not before they even knew a bit more about each other. Of course, that wasn’t really a good time to start being weird either…..and shit, Fenris was still waiting for an answer. “Yeah, it’s in the back. Lemme grab it for you.”

As Hawke left the bar, Anders, Isabela, and Merrill all met him with cunning looks on their faces. They all noticed the pause -- they all knew who this was at the bar. Hawke shot them a warning glance and hustled to the break room and back, but it was too late. Anders was moving closer, and all Hawke could do to stop him was smack the jacket between him and Fenris. “Here it is!” Hawke squeaked, mentally dying when he saw Fenris flinch back when the jacket hit the bar.

“Thank you. I thought I’d lost it in that Uber car.” Fenris slowly slid the black leather jacket on, adjusting it carefully until it sat against him just right, his eternal scowl lessening just a little. “I do believe it….yes.” Fenris pulled a wallet out of the pocket and snorted at his lucky chance. “A good thing my credit card was already in the Uber’s database.”

What, his wallet was in there? No wonder he came back next day. “Glad I could help. There’s definitely no 20s missing. You don’t even have to check, promise.”

Fenris laughed at that and pocketed his wallet instead, apparently taking Hawke’s word. “Very funny. I’ll consider that a reparation for the glass I broke when I passed out. And a tip for those poor souls who had to carry me.”

“You weren’t exactly heavy, but thank you.” Hawke blinked, wondering if that little smile on Fenris’ face was because of him. He hadn’t meant to flirt, but hey, if the glove fit… “Can I get you anything while you’re here?”

“What wines do you have?” Fenris immediately asked, grinning again when Hawke handed him a list of vintages.

****

“I can’t believe you drank an entire bottle of wine.” Hawke gaped, for maybe the fourth time. Varric was in charge of the wine, since Hawke was a miserable failure with the fancy stuff, but Hawke knew well enough how much a bottle of  Chardonnay cost .

“I surely can’t be the first.” Fenris smirked, looking amused by this whole situation. Hawke’s friends had long since left the bar for a table in the back, leaving Hawke to talk to Fenris without feeling the heavy press of their gazes. 

“Normally it’s, you know, split between friends. Or drawn out for more than an hour. You gonna be okay to drive home?” Hawke groaned at Fenris’ unsure expression and rubbed his temples. “We close in 30 minutes -- I’ll drive you home.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” His words weren’t slurred, nor was his posture any worse than before. He was an amazingly good sober-drunk, however that was possible. “I never quite know how to stop drinking once I start…”

“That’s called alcoholism, Fenris.”

“It was  _ really  _ good bottle of Chardonnay.”

“Do me a favor? Eat some peanuts.” Hawke shoved the bowl towards Fenris and started his cleanup for the night, knowing most everyone would be heading out soon. The only stragglers that hung around were his own friends, and they always slunk out before they paid their tabs. “So alright, you’re new to Kirkwall, drink a  _ healthy  _ amount, and have white hair. I’m thinking….professional hipster? Or dying of old age at 20.”

“Please.” Fenris chewed on a handful of nuts and crossed his arms on the bar, leaning forward as he watched Hawke put away all the empty bottles for the night. “I’m 27. And not a...hipster.” He grimaced at the word and continued, knowing Hawke was waiting to hear his occupation. “I currently teach adolescents the fine art of fencing.”

“A teacher? No offense, but you don’t seem the kid type.” Hawke snorted with amusement, his back cracking in protest when he stood too quickly.

“It’s a program for…’troubled’ kids. Surprisingly enough, if you offer to teach children swordplay they are often very excited to learn. The worst they can do is smack each other with wire.” Fenris leaned into his hand and watched as Hawke rotated his stock, tilting near-empty bottles and moving those to the front.

“They offer fencing? That just seems so…”

“I offered to buy all of the equipment out of my own pocket. Money’s the only issue there ever is, so that was solved simply enough.”

Holy shit. “That must have cost a small fortune. You good at it?” Hawke rubbed his hands clean on his jeans and leaned his arms on the bar as they continued their conversation.

“I used to go to competitions when I was younger. Came home with a few ribbons, a few trophies.” There was a strange look of bitterness in Fenris’ green eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Have you ever…?”

“Maker, no.” Hawke laughed. “The closest I ever got was LARPing.”

“Hawke, that’s not nearly the same thing.”

“I know, I know, don’t beat me up about it.” Hawke sighed and stole a few peanuts for himself, popping them in his mouth as the conversation lulled. “How’d you get into the program? Got a soft spot?”

“Hardly. I posses a sort of...kinship with those of troubled pasts. I want to do what I can to help.”

“Someone so noble that can chug a bottle of wine! I never thought I’d see the day!” The thought was amusing to no end, but...this was good! Fenris did charity work, for Maker’s sake, how could you beat that? Though how he got enough money for that was a mystery indeed.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Hawke pulling away again to lock up the register to count in the morning and doing a round to make sure everyone was gone, his friends included. Fenris helped him put up the chairs for sweeping and they headed out, Hawke shivering once the cold smacked him in the face. “Maker’s balls, you’d think the end was coming, it’s so cold.” 

Fenris was wrapped head-to-toe in black, looking like a black sheep and yet, so sexy? They got into Hawke’s clunker and Fenris quickly put his address into Hawke’s GPS app. The man didn’t live too far away -- within walking distance -- but it was cold enough that Hawke didn’t mind driving him home. It was a comfortable silent drive, ending only when Hawke parked in front of Fenris’ apartment and watched him get out.

After everything they had talked about, Hawke hadn’t expected Fenris to live in a junky apartment, that was for sure.

Fenris turned and lowered his scarf -- enough so his words wouldn’t be muffled -- and thanked Hawke for the ride. “I owe you not once, but twice it seems.”

“Aw, it’s no big deal.” He added quickly, in a teasing tone, “But seriously, don’t look for those 20 dollar bills.”

“How about a lesson in exchange?” Hawke was so taken back by the offer it took him a minute to process it.

“I’d just look like a big idiot. I told you, the most I’ve done is with a homemade foam sword…”

“Children can manage, Hawke. Just think about it. I’ll be back to Champs soon enough.” Fenris gave him a smile and closed the passenger-side door, making his way into his apartment complex with not another word. His figure was lost to the immediate darkness, illuminated only when he reached the front door, turned, and gave a little wave of farewell. Hawke sunk back in his seat, hands resting lightly on the leather of the driving wheel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this OOC, I ask myself  
> Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah


	4. LARP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke thinks over Fenris' suggestion while hanging with his friends. He drags out the old LARP equipment and attempts to not make a fool of himself (but fails).

It was a promising prospect. Hawke found himself thinking of Fenris’ offer all too often when he was relaxing at home, and finally convinced himself into dragging out _that._

The foam sword was a piece made with love and dedication, and how it had survived during their move Hawke would never understand. Those days were simpler; with Dad still alive and the house in a decent state. Old friends from school had introduced Hawke to LARPing and he had attached himself to it with a fierce longing.

The weaponry was easy enough to make. All you needed was some PVC pipe, foam, paint, and duct tape. Lots of duct tape. Carver and Bethany were so eager to play along Hawke eventually made them their own weapons -- much to his parents’ dismay. The three Hawke kids running around swinging at each other with foam weaponry never ended well. But it was so damn fun.

Running his hand down the smooth black and red paint of the blade, Hawke gripped the hilt and pretended to sheathe it. Then he turned, hacking and slashing at the air, once, twice, swinging as if enemies were dancing around him in his bedroom. He rolled on the floor and grabbed his shield from under the bed, jumping to his feet and pretending to smack someone in the face.

Hawke ducked and stabbed, twisting himself with another invisible approached, shield raised high. “Back, villian!” He yelled, making Princess whimper from the living room. “Not you!” Hawke assured her, running out into the hallway and finding his Mabari lying in her dog-bed. “Up, noble beast! We’re being attacked!” He slashed at more invisible enemies, jumping around on his couch until Princess grew bored of watching and went back to sleep.

He was panting hard by the time he was finished, his imaginary enemies dead at his feet, their invisible blood pooling on the varnished wood floors. “Hawke wins again!” He raised his sword in victory and dropped it on the floor with a groan. “The crowd goes wild!”

“ _I’m_ about to.” Isabela and Merrill stood at Hawke’s front door, grinning like cats when Hawke shrieked.

“How long have you been there!?” Hawke threw his hands over his chest, feeling a bit like he was caught naked. His face felt like it was on fire.

“Long enough.” Isabela purred, while Merrill broke into a round of applause.

“Oh, Hawke, that was wonderful! You looked so fluid and absolutely manly! Can you teach me?” Hawke deflated at Merrill’s words and fell to his knees, head bowed in defeat. Merrill tiptoed into the room and stole his sword, swinging it experimentally.

“Die, villain! Oh, no, maybe that's too harsh. Just bleed, a little, please!” Merrill giggled and gently hit Hawke’s head with his sword. “You’ve been vanquished, I’m afraid. Poor thing.”  

“What even are these?” Now Isabela was investigating the sword, pressing one finger against the sword and watching a bit of paint peel off. “Did you make this yourself?”

“It’s for LARP.” Hawke finally revealed, standing with a grunt. Though Merrill offered back the sword, he let her keep it, the two of them watching as she started to swing it around. “You know. Live Action…”

“Virgin territory, more like.”

“Isabela, please. It was...forever ago. I was just thinking about it, recently.” It finally dawned on him where they were. “Why are you here?”Now Merrill was gently tapping it against Princess, giggling when the Mabari only opened one eye to watch her.

“Movie night.” Merrill chirped.

“Like Kitten said.” Isabela went back to the front door and picked up a six pack of beer she had left behind, holding it for Hawke to take. “Aveline will be here soon, so best hide all your dangerous weapons.”

“Shit, is it Thursday already?” Hawke groaned, the fact of the matter slipping from his mind completely. He had forgotten to get any snacks! “Don’t suppose Anders is bringing food, is he?”

“No, but he _is_ bringing Karl, who’s a tall drink of water.” Isabela sighed and looked up at Hawke, her chin jutted out. “You’re not going to throw a fit this time, are you?”

“No!” Hawke paused. “I’m totally over Anders. Completely.” _Convincing._  

“But maybe you should stay away from the beer, just in case?” Merrill suggested, slowly stabbing Hawke with his foam sword. “Just in case you turn into a babbling, sad puppy again. It’s adorable, it really is, but if you end up crying, I will too.”

Hawke finally took back his foam sword, saying,. “Fine, fine. But that means I need snacks. You two hold down the fort while I grab food.” Hawke was out the door as soon as he shrugged on his jacket, zipping himself up as he climbed the stairs down to the street. There was a Bodahn and Son down the street, so he didn’t bother to drive, taking a moment to appreciate the cold weather after that mild workout.

*****

The convenience store was quiet that night, near empty even though it wasn’t so late. Hawke walked down the snack aisle lazily, his eyes looking for something good everyone could agree on. Anders was vegetarian, Merrill too, but Isabela would complain if Hawke bought anything mildly healthy. He would too, just internally.

Hawke was so caught up in his own consuming thoughts that he failed to notice the other poor soul in the snack aisle, walking right into him while his eyes were trained on the brands of Cheetos available. “Oh, shit -- sorry.” Hawke quickly pulled himself back, eyes widening when he recognized that unmistakable head of white hair. “Fenris!”

Unlike like Hawke’s rush of horror, Fenris just looked mildly amused. “Hawke. I’m almost done, no need to be so rude.”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t --” Hawke swallowed and took a step closer, studying the bagged chips with Fenris. “How are you?”

“I’m deciding whether my meal should consist of Cheetos or Flaming Hot Cheetos.” Fenris scrunched up his nose with concentration, green eyes alight as he scanned the shelf. “How are you, Hawke?”

“I’m grabbing some snacks for a movie.” Hawke pulled a bag of regular Cheetos from the shelf and glanced over at Fenris. The young man was barely an inch shorter than himself, but being wrapped up in all that black, Hawke couldn’t help but think he looked a tad more intimidating. “You’re just eating Cheetos?”

“No.” Hawke sighed with relief. “I’ll have a glass of wine, too.” Nevermind. Hawke groaned in disbelief. Was he going to have to be the adult about this? Seriously?

“That’s not even an iota of healthy, Fenris. I’m no guru myself, but...damn.”

That got a snort of laughter from Fenris. “Says the person also getting snacks.”

“I’m getting them for my friends! Look,” Hawke spreads his hands in invitation, “you should join us. I’ll have actual food. And I do own a bar, so…” The alcohol, at least, would be good.

Fenris paused in thought, green eyes staring down the Cheetos, before he glanced over at Hawke. “I don’t have to pay for this alcohol, do I?”

“No, no, no. C’mon, it’ll be fun! We’re watching Monty Python.” Walking side-by-side down the aisle, Hawke grabbed a few more snacks at Fenris’ suggestion before herding the elf towards the checkout.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Cheetos, if you wanna sponsor me, give me a call! Just a small taste of my advertising 'skills' ;)


	5. Brought To You By...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke introduces Fenris to his friends via Monty Python. It's not so messy as Hawke dreads, and the end result is pretty nice...

Introducing Fenris to all his friends at this point in time wasn’t quite what Hawke planned on -- he had thought it would take at least one fencing lesson to coerce Fenris to hang out. But this worked well enough, really. When they arrived back at Hawke’s apartment everyone was already nice and loose with the assistance of wine, calling out merrily when they heard the front door open. “Hawke~ Oooh, who’s tall, dark, and handsome?” Isabela immediately demanded, giving Fenris a warm smile in greeting. 

“Everyone, this is Fenris. He’s, uh, in need of a decent dinner.” Hawke motioned towards his friends lounging around on the couch, grinning as he introduced them. “Fenris, this is Isabela, Aveline, Anders, and Merrill.” 

“And Varric!” Out from the kitchen came another familiar face, Varric settling himself comfortably next to Merrill, a bowl of popcorn in hand. “But don’t worry about excluding me, Hawke, really.” 

“Sorry.” Hawke mused, watching as Fenris swept his gaze over the group of people. He looked nervous, a bit like a cornered dog, so Hawke nodded to the kitchen. “You guys go ahead and start. We still need to make food.” Bags in hand, the two settled in the kitchen and got to work.

Hawke could hear the opening music of the movie start up in the background, smirking to himself when he heard Merrill reading the text aloud and giggling when they got to the part with llamas causing mayhem. “Alright, let’s see.” With all the cupboards open, it was plain to see they had free range in regards to dinner. “Avocados are gonna go bad soon, so let’s make a dip and…”

“Bread bowls?” Fenris suggested, spying the bread on the top of the fridge. “What soup do you have?”

“Tomato would be good, with some...spinach?” Together they pulled all the ingredients onto the kitchen counter, cooking side-by-side as they hollowed out the bowls and stirred the soup on the stove. Just a few minutes in and Hawke finally noticed how fluid Fenris moved about the kitchen. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I cook.” Fenris stirred in the spinach and watched as it mixed into the thick tomato soup, a clash of green in vibrant orange. “But not often.”

Hawke ‘ _ hmm _ ’ed at that and turned his attention back to the bowls, using the leftover bread to make tiny grilled cheeses in a pan. Fenris smiled when he saw what Hawke was doing, muttering something about ‘healthy food my ass’ as he put the soup aside to work on the guacamole.

By the time they were done with the food, a hungry crowd had gathered by the kitchen doorway, Merrill and Aveline the only ones still bothering with the movie. “Just one bite, Hawke, please?” Anders whined, shushed only when Hawke handed over the bowl of dip. It bought him and Fenris enough time to eat their culinary creations, which were damn good, especially when the wine was opened up.

“Cheers.” Fenris held up the wine bottle, and with a grin, Hawk mimicked the motion with his own glass of water. 

The movie was near over by the time Fenris and Hawke finally moved from the kitchen and took their seat on the couch, Hawke setting his feet on top of the coffee table while Fenris simply crossed his arms and squinted at the screen. The elf sunk back into the couch and sighed softly, his eyelids already drooping. A whole half-bottle of wine would do that.

Anders and Merrill were chattering excitedly about the costumes of the actors while Aveline tried to shush them, Isabela stuffing her face with dip and Varric scrolling through his smartphone, but Hawke couldn’t bring himself to care. The movie made no sense this far in, but Fenris would chuckle quietly every so often, and his solid presence next to Hawke on the couch was starting to get distracting, especially when the elf shifted closer.

Maker, he smelled good. Hawke was on the brink of naming what that scent was when the movie credits started to roll and Isabella grabbed up an empty bottle of brandy and suggested they play ‘spin the bottle’.

Varric snorted with amusement, glancing up from his phone. “What is this, middle school?”

“No, we’re grown ups, Varric. Good-looking ones, at that.” Isabela sighed and clutched the bottle to her chest, pouting when everyone laughed. “You all know you want a chance to kiss this.”

“As fun as that may be--” Hawke knew he had to put a stop to this before they somehow wound up playing strip poker, “I think I need to take some of you home.”

Hearing Aveline’s audible sigh of relief, Hawke stood from the couch and helped his very drunk friends up and into their coats. Anders was especially being difficult, huffing at Hawke as he zipped up his jacket for his friend. It was only then that Hawke realized Karl hadn’t shown up. Chancing a look up at Anders, Hawke paused at the sadness behind his eyes. Something was up. Something that would be talked about tomorrow, for sure.

Aveline and Varric shrugged into their own coats, driving off first with Hawke following close behind, four very drunk people stuffed into his clunker. Anders was closest, so he was first to be dropped off, then Isabella and Merrill, and lastly Fenris, whose apartment looped back around towards Hawke’s place. Pulling the car to the curb, Hawke put it in park and waited as Fenris unbuckled himself. No one looked near as good as Fenris in all the black leather, with little bits of his tattoos barely visible in the shitty lighting of Hawke's car. One day he would ask about those tattoos, if they had a story worth sharing. 

Hawke licked his lips, starting, “Hey. About that offer of yours.” Fenris paused mid-way out of his seat, looking back at Hawke as the burly man put together the words he wanted. “Is it still up for grabs? Cuz I want to do it.”

“...the fencing.” Fenris finally remembered, a smile growing on his face.

“The fencing, yeah. What...day, time, do I need to be there for?” Hawke tapped his fingers along the steering wheel nervously, waiting as Fenris thought it over. Fenris worried his bottom lip with his teeth, green eyes trained on the battered car dashboard as he went through his schedule. 

“How about Friday, at 4?” Fenris suddenly pulled out his phone, clicking through it until he reached his contacts and pressed ‘new’. Handing the phone over to Hawke, Fenris waited expectantly for him to put his number in. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Oh, right.” Finding his brain for a moment, Hawke hurriedly punched in his information and held the phone back as it took a picture. He couldn’t help it: lips puckered, with his head tilted back just enough that the flash made him look horrifying.

Fenris took his phone back and stared at that photo for a long time, face scrunching up into a deep frown the longer he stared. Hawke was starting to sweat bullets by the time the elf finally pocketed his phone, sighing with a sort of pained look. “It will do, I suppose.” He slid out of the car and closed his door, walking around until he was on the driver’s side. Hawke watched him go, wondering if that had been a step too far.

The answering ugly selfie Fenris sent him 15 minutes later was well worth it.


	6. Sabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke finally takes Fenris up on his offer. Hawke is.....bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this and think, 'Wow, does she know anything literally anything about fencing'????  
> The answer is: the wikipedia page, at the very least. Please be gentle/// I'm trying lol.

Technology was amazing. Also slightly terrifying. With Fenris’ information securely saved in Hawke’s contacts, they were now friends on Snapchat, Facebook, and all dumb gaming apps Hawke had. Of them all, the Snapchat one was more than a little intimidating, Hawke known for sending nudes on request. Anders had a few still saved somewhere in the recesses of his phone, and Isabela probably had at least one or two.

There had been a few times those Snapchats went awry; sent to the wrong person on accident. Thankfully the situation never got out of hand, but...a shamelessly shirtless picture meant to impress Anders had instead made its way to Varric. And Varric didn’t deserve that. Hawke also didn’t deserve that, especially when Varric just sent an awkward text back that read ‘nice’.

So for the time being Snapchat was going to remain closed, locked, and out of reach. At least until Fenris maybe started sending him more stuff. Hawke found himself blushing at the thought and rubbed the damning color from his cheeks before he went to pull on his jacket. The weather outside was 20 degrees shy of frozen wasteland, but people still found a way to traverse through to wherever they needed to go, all while covered head-to-toe in winter wear. Though Hawke spotted the occasional mage practically steaming as they walked down the sidewalk.

Hawke flexed his gloved fingers, watching jealously as one mage woman warmed up her child’s cheeks with a little bit of fire magic, her heated palms pressed gently to the adolescent’s face. The kid laughed and squirmed in her lap, asking excitedly for her to do it again, but Hawke didn’t hear the woman’s response as he continued on.

He didn’t think about magic much unless Bethany was around. Sometimes it came as naturally as breathing, around her -- of course the world was filled with magic! But then Hawke would disappear for a bit, only to near shit his pants when Anders would heal a cut or Merrill would bring color back to a flower’s petals.

Not all magic was used for good, but...Hawke breathed out a puff of air, eyes skimming over a young couple huddled together and giggling in hushed breaths. Not all magic was so obviously visible.

Smiling slightly to himself, Hawke continued down the sidewalk, hands tucked tight into his jacket to preserve what warmth there was left from his time indoors. The gym wasn’t far from here, but each step felt like agony. Hawke had thought a ‘warmup’ walk would do some good, all thoughts of _that_ chased out once he opened the front door to his apartment. Fenris would just have to thaw him out with a hair dryer -- at this point, he was going to freeze completely. 

Hawke managed to silently complain his entire way to the gym, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief as he sagged against the wall. Following the signs (put up for the kids, Hawke could only guess), he soon found himself in a huge, empty room, with a mat in the middle and a set of equipment leaning lovingly against the nearby wall. Hawke was about to pick up one of the swords available when a voice called out to him, echoing across the huge space. “Hawke, don’t!”

Freezing in place, Hawke waited until Fenris strolled to his side, smacking away his hand from the equipment. “You don’t get to start just yet.”

“Rude.” Hawke rubbed at his hand and let his gaze trail up and down Fenris’ costume. “That’s….something.” The elf was wearing a fencing outfit that looked terribly itchy, dressed in head-to-toe white. It was so starkly different from how Fenris normally dressed, Hawke couldn’t even seem to make a connection between the two men. “Please don’t make me wear that.”

Fenris snorted with amusement and shook his head, green eyes looking Hawke up and down in just a second. “I don’t have anything remotely your size. You’ll have to make do with what you have on.”

 _Don’t make a dirty joke. Don’t._ Fenris walked around Hawke and picked up the saber resting in its stand, holding it horizontally in his hands to let Hawke examine it. “This is a saber. The fencing we know emerged as a competitive sport at the of the 19th century. Modern fencing uses three weapons: foil, saber, and épée.” Fenris gripped the handle of the saber and flicked it down, careful to not let the tip touch the floor. “I _personally_ enjoy the saber.”

 _Fucking no, don’t take that lead._ “What, there’s three types?” Hawke frowned at the other sabers on the rack, noting that they looked less polished and well-made in comparison to Fenris’. Well, they were used by children, after all. “How’s…”

“Saber allows for a possibility to score with the edge of the blade as well as the point. For this reason, _sabreur_ movements and attacks are very fast.” Fenris motioned for Hawke to follow him, the two of them walking back to the mat in the center of the room. The mirrors on the side of the wall were a bit disconcerting, honestly, like the two were supposed to watch their own movements. Hawke watched as the two crossed the room, his gaze lingering on Fenris’s face.

The sword handed to him was nothing more than a wooden stick with a hand guard, but Fenris had swapped his own saber to match. “You seem...well-versed about this.” Hawke began, trying awkwardly to copy Fenris’ stance. “So I’m just going to go ahead and remind you I’ve got no experience with this sort of thing.”

“Whack your saber with my own and you’ll do fine.” Fenris’ lips quirked, just a touch, before he straightened up. Hawke scoffed at Fenris, brushing his dark bangs back before he did the same. “The target area for a sabre consists of the torso above the waist, as well as the arms and head.” Fenris ran his hand up his side to demonstrate, continuing when Hawke gave a small nod.

“We’re not wearing helmets, so…”

“Right.” The elf quickly agreed, saying, “No head-shots, not with these. Your goal is to land a hit, not to exchange blows. Aim for my waist...but don’t hurt yourself.” With a slight adjustment of his hips, Fenris readied himself. “At your leisure, Hawke.”

 _Maybe this won’t be so bad._ Hawke thought, obviously wrong. One step forward and Fenris hit him on the side, calling, “Point!”

 _Okay, once more._ Again, Hawke was wrong, making it two steps before Fenris had him in-between the ribs. “Point?” Hawke asked weakly, gripping the saber with his free hand. Fenris watched as Hawke crumpled to the mat, coughing weakly as he ‘died’, gasping out his last breath before going still.

He somehow managed a dead-pan somber face for the whole while, but when Hawke finally ‘died’, Fenris couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m not. Just dead.” Hawke rolled onto his back and got to his feet once more, heart beating fast when Fenris immediately drew close. The elf looked bemused, but that glint in his handsome green eyes spoke of something else.

“So much for your LARPing _skills_.”

*****

Hawke was lacing back up his boots when Fenris returned, two water bottles in hand. Hawke immediately pressed one to the back of his neck, groaning with relief as a wash of cold water ran down his overheated skin. “Much appreciated.” His face was cherry-red from the workout, but Fenris looked as calm and composed as ever, his nose wrinkling just a tad as he swished cold water around in his mouth before swallowing. “You’ve been at this for some time, then?” Hawke never thought to ask, but Fenris obviously knew more about fencing than the average person. The elf had mentioned competitions in his youth, sure, but to still be so lithe and informed meant something more recent.

“I’ve been with this group of kids for about two months.” Fenris took another gulp of water, rubbing some of the condensation on the side of his neck. Hawke followed one especially interesting droplet from the corner of his eye, glancing away when it finally dipped underneath Fenris’ collar. “Won’t be much longer, unfortunately. I hate to leave them half-way like this, but the school isn’t providing much in means of support. Money’s tight.”

“Really.” Hawke lowered his gaze to the floor, sad to hear that was the case. Fenris was damn good at what he did, and the kids, from the sound of it, really liked what this program had to offer. Hawke rolled the water bottle in his hands, mulling over an answer. “That sucks, really. No way you can pinch pennies?”

Fenris laughed at that, knowing Hawke meant well. “I’ve funded the entire program with my own money, so...no. I know when I’m running low. I could maybe last another month, at the least, but…”

When Fenris trailed off, Hawke found himself prompting him for more. “What?”

“It’s the rent.” Placing his water bottle carefully on the ground, Fenris leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hunched over as he stretched. “The landlady recently brought the price up, and I was...not accounting for that.”

“Oh.” Rent had a tendency to be a pain. “Don’t you have a roommate to help pay?”

“No, no.” Fenris gave a small shake of his head. “Why, do you?”

“No...but my rent isn’t bad. It’s about $550 plus utilities.”

Fenris finished his stretch and leaned back instead, arching his back as he reached for the ceiling. “I’ve been to your apartment. How is it that cheap? No, never mind --” Returning to a resting position, Fenris met Hawke’s gaze and the elf smiled. “I have an idea, if you’d be willing.”


	7. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke helps Fenris move, and slowly realizes he may have jumped the gun. Time to get to know one another!

“You’ve been here before, but...well, if you have any questions you can just lemme know.” Hawke let his eyes trail about his apartment, suddenly a bit self-conscious of the mess. The offer had been sprung up without warning and that left little time for him to run home to clean. They had gone right to Fenris’ apartment to pack up and head out; the elf didn’t have much to his name, despite spending a small fortune on a school program, so they were out and done in about an hour. 

Princess greeted them excitedly at the door, her bobbed tail wagging as quickly as the little stump could manage, her dancing about a warning to future pouncing. Hawke managed to calm him mabari before she mauled Fenris with kisses, shooing her as they walked into the spare bedroom. “This is where I let my friends crash sometimes, so if you find anything weird, it’s not me. Promise.” Hawke set down two boxes on the bare bed and brushed past Fenris to grab some more. “Do you need sheets?”

“No, I have my own!” Fenris called back, a bit breathless with this sudden change. He was used to moving about from country to country, sure, and never felt any sort of homeliness associated with any one place, but to suddenly move in with, what, a stranger? Fenris sighed softly when he heard Hawke returning, helping the man settle the rest of the boxes in various spots about the room for the time being. “I’ll manage to unpack on my own. Thank you, Hawke.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Hawke wiped at his forehead with the back of his head, huffing as bit as he glanced about the room. Not too big, not too small, and bare as fuck. It would be easy for Fenris to make this area his own -- if he was wanting. “I’ll make us some lunch.”

Just like Fenris, Hawke was slowly realizing the two literally knew nothing about one another. That wasn’t always required for roommates, especially in big cities like Kirkwall where rent sucked unless you had someone to split it with, but it was an added security. Cursing softly under his breath, Hawke walked into the kitchen and pulled out ingredients to make sandwiches. Fenris seemed like a decent guy -- most people who wanted to help kids generally were -- and a month wouldn’t be a hard stretch by any means.

Hawke had had his share of shit roommates from previous apartments; as soon as he a stable income to afford his own place each month, he had taken the opportunity. But he still heard horror stories from Bethany and Carver, though they were only just starting college. He smiled at the thought and set the sandwiches on the mini grill, watching carefully to make sure they didn’t burn. If Fenris was messy, that was fine -- Hawke was as well. And Fenris seemed to be a night owl too, at least from his visits at the bar. So there wouldn’t be any clashes there.

The only problem was maybe….and Hawke loathed to admit this, but….his tiny crush on Fenris? It hadn’t gone past lingering glances and weird, intrusive fantasies, but it was still there. Of course Hawke could behave himself -- this wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak. Still, Hawke could gloat a bit in this moment. And maybe text Isabela the deets later.

Flipping the sandwiches and blotting off the last of the lingering oil, Hawke plated them and set them on the mini kitchen table. “Lunch is ready!” When Fenris came padding into the kitchen, Hawke quickly pushed his sandwich towards him, smiling at the elf’s raised eyebrows.

“This is going to be a trend, is it?” Fenris ‘ _ hmm _ ’ed under his breath and took an experimental bite, glancing about the open layout of the entryway as they ate. Hawke took this moment to examine Fenris instead; he had changed out of his fencing uniform before they left the gym, replacing it with a black tank-top and gray, low-dipping sweatpants. With so much skin showing, Hawke would finally follow the curve of his tattoos, wondering again what the story behind those were. His eyes started at the bottom of Fenris’ jaw, traveling down the elf’s neck and collarbone to his bare arms, muscles flexing just slightly under dark skin.

_ Maker’s balls.  _ Hawke coughed as his sandwich went down the wrong way, ignoring Fenris’ offers of assistance and just drowning his pervertedness with water instead. “You, uh, do you have any preferences in your apartment? Cleanliness, temperature, that sort of thing.”

“Temperature is no issue.” Fenris sucked a spot of mayonnaise off his thumb, eyes downcast as he thought. He rarely did make eye contact...Hawke noticed that over time, thinking Fenris only did when he was confident in his answer or comment. “Are you a morning person?” 

“Maker, no.” Hawke laughed, thinking of the containers of coffee crammed into the cabinets. “The golden rule of this house is to never run out of coffee. Ever.”

“Good.” Fenris seemed to approve that answer, grinning as he took another bite of his sandwich. “Then we’re at a mutual understanding.”

“Your program is after school, right? So what do you do for the remainder of the day?” Hawke asked, realizing all too late that might be too personal. “Not that I’m incredibly jealous of an open schedule already, but…”

Fenris rolled his eyes and finished the last of his sandwich, crossing his arms as he regarded Hawke more fully. “I have my freelance work. The tattoo parlor near my old place had me drawing up requests every so often.”

“Really?” Hawke couldn’t help it -- his eyes skimmed over Fenris’ arms again. “So you’re...arty?”

“Not a hipster though.”

“Well, thank the Maker for that.” Hawke replied with a bit of sarcasm on his tongue, snorting when Fenris smiled in return. “That explains your tattoos though.”

The atmosphere of the room grew tense immediately. “Does it.” Fenris asked that through clenched teeth, eyes trained on Hawke as the man rethought his damning words.

“Well, yeah. I mean, they’re impossible not to notice. Unless it’s a sore, uh, topic.” Hawke cleared his throat, relaxing when Fenris let out a soft sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, first day and all.”

“No, it’s…” Fenris sighed again, “expected. Most are curious.” Here Fenris finally looked amused. “You are not the first to ask. And I doubt you will be the last, Hawke.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I...honestly, Maker, it’s your business. They’re cool, so I thought, you know, uh...I’m just gonna shut it now.”

“‘Cool’? Only you would…” Awkward laughter bubbled from both of the men, the tense atmosphere of the kitchen broken right then and there. “ _ Fasta vass.” _

“I know I’m bad, alright?” Hawke internally bemoaned himself for making so critical a mistake, just on day one! He was too used to his friends taking all his shit -- and returning it twofold. Fenris might come around to act the same way, but this was just the beginning, and their friendship needed a bit of groundwork. More so than there already was, anyway.

“Look, it’s almost 3, and I need to get to Champ’s.” Time was on his side for once, the consequential time a good way to leave the topic alone for a bit. “You need to get back to the gym, don’t you?”

Fenris started at his own realization of the time, and quickly checked his watch. “Yes, rather promptly. Would you give me a ride?” The men stood from the kitchen table and rushed to get everything put away, Princess watching them sadly from her place on the couch. They were in the car and out on the road within five minutes, Hawke drumming his fingers nervously against the steering wheel as he stared ahead. 

“...Hey.”

“Mm?”

Hawke licked his lips and pressed gently on the gas pedal, easing his clunker forward. How to phrase this? “We’ll only live together a month, yeah, but, it might be good to get to know each other a bit. Nothing...you know, crazy deep, but maybe the basics.”

Fenris glanced up from his phone, ears twitching with exposed interest. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Maybe we could see a movie together, go out and do some stuff. Manly bonding and all that.”  _ Totally not a date. Unless… _

The pause from the right side of the car was killing Hawke slowly, and he only looked at Fenris for a second, the traffic too congested to allow much else. Was that a little smile lingering on the elf’s lips? Fenris shifted in his seat, looking out the window as he mulled over an answer. “There’s...nothing else you would rather do with your time? Your other friends might get jealous.”

_ Was that some sort of...low-key question about obligations with someone else?  _ Hawke frowned as he made a left turn, muttering ‘shit’ under his breath as a van cut him off. “No, uh, no one will get jealous. Promise. Unless Princess counts, then yeah, I’m otherwise taken.” That earned an amused snort from Fenris, though Hawke barely heard it.

“I wouldn’t dare hurt Princess’ feelings. That would be rude, as her new roommate. And as a proud mabari, I’ve no doubt she could rip me in half if she desired.”

“All she desires is petting and walks, so as long as you do that, maybe we can come to an agreement.” Hawke pulled up to the curb, putting his car in park as Fenris unbuckled himself. “So, think on it?”

Fenris paused once he was outside of the car, tapping on his lower chin as he stared down at Hawke, presumably ‘thinking on it’. “I’ll agree, on one condition.”

“Sure…?”

“You’ll make the coffee in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've certainly had my fair share of horror roommates lol. Hopefully this works out a bit better for Hawke and Fenris....?


	8. A Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hawke's friends are good wingmen but Hawke is not good to even his own cause.

“Here, Hawke, this one is chocolate, and my personal favorite, but oh, don’t tell Isabela that, I think she rather hates it--” Merrill watched as Hawke chewed thoughtfully, grunting when he swallowed.

“I think it’s good. But don’t you think it’s a little…” Hawke didn’t know what word he was searching for. This was Merrill and Isabela’s wedding, Maker’s breath, it shouldn’t have _just_ chocolate cake. Or at least it felt that way. “..plain?”

“Exactly!” Isabela returned from her plundering in the back, a new, bright red scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck. “Chocolate has its uses, certainly, but for our wedding, the bigger the better! And I’ll give only the best for you, _kitten~_.” Hawke watched with fondness as Isabela pulled her girlfriend (fiancee? Apparently) close to rain kisses on her pale skin.

“Oh, but Isabela, the _budget!_ ” Merrill giggled under Isabela’s affections regardless, turning a bright pink and finally having to simply push Isabela away. “We can’t afford gold leaf, though it certainly is very pretty, and would exceptional with the rest of the theme -- but no, no, it’s simply not possible!”

Hawke picked another cube of cake from the tray on the bar, chewing as Isabela and Merrill debated the economic advantage of having a cake with only two tiers instead of...what, ten? Isabela, Maker’s breath, was that even physically possible? “The marble’s good. And...is that Ferelden Rum cake?” Isabela popped it into Merrill’s mouth before Hawke could snatch it for himself, the man grunting unhappily at his loss.

“It’s the one _I_ want.” Isabela watched Merrill’s expression dissolve from worry into pure bliss. “And I have a feeling I’ll win this one.”

“I’d say so.” Hawke chuckled when his little elven friend gave a rapid nod, her eyes alight with revelation. “Remind me of the date?”

“Three weeks from tomorrow, and if you don’t show up, I’ll likely hunt you down--”

“--and cry endlessly!” Merrill finished for Isabela, looking upset at the idea of Hawke skipping out on the wedding.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He valued his personal goods too much to not make it. Plus, it was on a boat. Weddings on boats always tended to get exciting, or at least interesting. Isabela had apparently spruced up her little yacht for the occasion, a labor of love that Hawke was glad he had a decent excuse to not be dragged into helping with.

“You should bring Fenris!” Merrill blurted out, leaning over the bar to look Hawke right up close and personal. “It’s no trouble to provide for one more, and it might be fun!”

“Just might, huh?” Hawke made a dissatisfied face at the idea of asking Fenris. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he was fairly sure the elf would turn him down.

“I completely agree.” Isabela grinned up at Hawke and crossed her arms, leaning with Merrill against the bar, fully prepared to bully to get her way. “He’s your _roommate_ , after all. And what’s the harm in having another handsome man at my wedding?”

“I can think of a few reasons.” None he could name at the moment, but he simply sighed in defeat anyway. “I’ll ask him to save the date. Can I promise an open bar?”

“You can comfort him when he discovers there is none!” Merrill seemed a bit too excited at that prospect, and both Hawke and Isabela ended up looking at her disbelievingly. “What?”

There was something too adorable about Merrill’s innocence, or in this case -- lack thereof. Hawke scoffed at the elf and went back to setting up for the night crowd, Isabela taking the moment to instead finish the rest of the cake samples. She and Merrill spoke for a bit more before Isabela had to leave for her own wedding duties, leaving the other two to get ready.

Champ’s was tranquil at this time of day, when most everyone was still at work. There were only those who had left early or had odd hours occupying seats around, their orders so predictable they only had to wave a hand before Hawke would start making them a refill. Champ’s provided some food options as well, early enough in the day, when their oddball cook preferred to work.

*****

Hawke ducked out before the night crew rolled around to pick up Fenris from the gym, parking out front and watching a gaggle-worth of children spill from the front door onto a waiting school bus. There were more than Hawke thought, as well as a range of ages, but what surprised him most was the man ushering these children from the gym. He was elven, tall, and dark, with careful white lines tattooed on his face -- some sort of Dalish tradition, Hawke remembered.

Fenris was standing next to him by the gym’s entrance, the two of them talking casually, interrupted only when the school bus honked with impatience. The other elf laughed and gave Fenris a small nod before running off and climbing into the bus. Not long after, Fenris climbed into Hawke’s car, looking befuddled at Hawke’s grin. “What?”

“So he was cute.”

“I’m sure his husband would agree.” Fenris buckled himself in and finally cracked a small smile. “He runs the after-school programs in this area. Dolthorn Lavellan is a good man, if irritatingly Dalish.”

“There is a clan right by here, isn’t there? That’s where Merrill came from.” Hawke eased his foot on the gas, pulling back out onto the road. “I wonder if they know each other.”

“No, he came from the Emerald Graves.” Fenris pulled out his phone and started to scroll through, distracted as he checked his texts and emails. “So I doubt it.”

“The Emerald Graves? Shit. That’s….far.” That was some reservation for the Dalish, way off in Orlais. That he now managed school programs for an entire city was impressive, especially since there was still a bit of prejudice against non-humans. “How tall was he, though? He out-stripped even you.”

Snorting with laughter, Fenris finally shoved his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms. “Someone’s curious. Hawke, don’t tell me you have a thing for elves.”

Oh. _Oh._ Well...did he? Hawke was taking too long to think of a good, safe answer, leaving the car steeped in silence for a few seconds longer than necessary. Finally he gave an awkward laugh, startling Fenris so much he finally looked away from the window. “I think that, uh, love comes in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes they just happen to be vaguely elfy.”

“Diplomatic.” Hawke couldn’t afford to look away from the road, and for the moment he was grateful, sure not only that his face was bright red but also that Fenris was stifling his own laughter.

“I...oh, stop teasing me. You’re being awfully mean to your new roommate.” Hawke huffed, the color splashed across his face turning an even deeper red.

“I’d introduce you, but, as I mentioned, he is happily married.”

“All I said was he was cute! Now you’re playing matchmaker? Maker forbid I ever comment on someone’s attractiveness ever again.” They were getting close to the apartment -- thank the Maker. He was trying to keep his tone light, but Fenris’ laughter made it hard to not get defensive.

They parked and walked across the lot to Hawke’s apartment, the two of them quickly shuffling in to take in the slight warmth of the apartment. Princess greeted them both at the door with her bowl in her mouth, the spoiled Mabari she was. Hawke sighed as he grabbed a chew bone for her, all while Fenris went to the closet and started to shed layers. “Come on, Princess, let’s go for a quick walk.”

Oh. Oh, Maker, he forgot. At the word ‘walk’, Princess went into a tizzy, barking frantically and jumping in a circle as Hawke hurried for her leash in the closet. Once she was clicked in, the Mabari fell silent, little bobbed tail wagging frantically as she stared at the door. “ _Why_?” Hawke asked softly, his eardrums pounding. “Why must you bark?”

“There’s something interesting in that.” Fenris laughed from the kitchen, pulling from the fridge an apple to snack on. “You’ve trained your Princess well.”

“She is perfect and wonderful and...loud.” Hawke opened the door again, the cold smacking him in the face like an angry ex-lover. “Andraste’s cold tits, shit.” And he was off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme tell you: I can't wait to write up Isabela and Merrill's wedding. It's gonna be fantastic.  
> Also, yes. Shameless Inquisitor plug that is going to show up again later.


	9. Dare

Living with Fenris took some adjustments, there was no questioning that. Their first morning together, Hawke had to stop himself from walking to his kitchen ass-naked. Thankfully he didn’t make it past his own bedroom door before realizing the error of his ways. So no naked wandering -- that could be done, easy.

For modesty’s sake Hawke pulled on both a ratty t-shirt and a pair of dragon-print sleep pants (courtesy of Bethany, circa last winter, bless her heart) before tackling the task of making morning coffee. He only had enough time to put on the pot before Princess started to increase the intensity of her whimpers, staring up at Hawke pleadingly from her seat by the door. It was 7 am, so Hawke didn’t give a single damn as he strolled outside in his pajamas and bare feet.

The coffee was done by the time they returned, a half-dead Fenris cupping a full mug at the kitchen table. Fenris couldn’t even bother to sit up straight in his chair, curling into it with a thousand-yard squint towards the corner of the living room. He looked exactly as Hawke felt. “Why are you awake?” Hawke asked as he let Princess loose.

“My body loathes me.” Fenris growled, finally taking a sip from his steaming mug. Princess attempted to cheer Fenris up, the Mabari walking over and resting her big head in his lap. As a reward, Fenris ran his fingers through her short fur, still grumbling, but now with a bit of a smile. Breakfast was toast and a sliced apple for Hawke, dog-kibble for Princess, and more coffee for Fenris. For the first 15 minutes, it was pure bliss.

At least until Hawke had to leave to do stock-check at Champs.

And the days passed like that. Having Fenris as a roommate was so far a blessing in disguise, leaving Hawke with extra money saved on rent and a factor that kept him from deteriorating into a slob as soon as he hit the front door. They took turns cooking dinner each night, went to the grocery together, and even started to take Princess on walks when time allowed. Things were getting...homey. And it wasn’t even a week before Fenris mentioned going out for a night on the town.

As the owner of Champ’s, Hawke didn’t have many days off -- and when he did, you could bet your life they weren’t going to be on the weekends. He worked the whole week except Thursday, his hours depending on the day of the week. Sunday was, thankfully, the night Champs closed up early. So Fenris agreed to meet Hawke down by the docks Sunday at 6, where they would grab dinner and maybe hit up the gaming area at the end of the pier if they had time. 

And Hawke was fine with admitting he was nervous. Of course he was. This wasn’t a date, Maker forbid Hawke’s nerves if it  _ was,  _ but there was still a level of importance to this meetup. He put on his nicest button-up black shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of fade-washed jeans (with no holes! Bethany would be proud), plus his favorite run around boots. It was 5:45 and Hawke was combing through his hair like it was his very first date.

In fact, the butterflies in his stomach were pretty damn familiar. Checking himself one last time in the mirror, Hawke gathered all his courage and got out of his car.

He found Fenris leaning against the railing overlooking the Waking Sea, expression carefully neutral as he stared at the lapping waves painted a deep purple by the setting sun. Fenris looked...ridiculously good against that backdrop, enough that Hawke contemplated pulling out his phone and capturing the moment. Instead, he walked over to Fenris and dropped the absolute worst pickup line he knew.

“Come here often?”

Fenris didn’t bother to pull his gaze from the sea, sighing softly as he smiled. “No, that won’t do. Try again.”

Hawke leaned against the railing with Fenris, arms hanging loosely over it as he mulled over a new line. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Oh?” Fenris finally looked at Hawke, green eyes alight with curiosity. Hawke found his tongue tied for only a second, stumbling out the finishing touches.

“Because you look like hell; smoking hot.” Ah, Maker, it sounded even worse out loud. Hawke watched Fenris comically recoil in disgust, his nose scrunched up as he visibly put distance between them. “Aw, Fenris, don’t be like that!” Hawke laughed as he trailed after his elven friend, Fenris finally relenting to his pleading once they reached a food truck that looked decent.

“You’re allowed to stand there only because no one here had to hear that  _ horrible  _ line.” Peace somehow returned between the two men, they shelled out their combined $12.50 for two gyros and picked a place to sit. “Please tell me you never actually say that.”

“My Mother did not raise me to lie.” Hawke said between bites, “So yeah, maybe once. Twice. Every time. It’s my signature move!”

“I imagine.” Though his voice was as dry as sand, Fenris still managed to add a touch of amusement somewhere in there. “This is who I live with, then? Some sort of bartender who's heard every bad line in the book?”

“Basically.” Hawke sucked a bit of sauce from his thumb, almost done with his gyro while Fenris was still neatly eating his own. "After a while, you want to try them out yourself." 

“Delightful. I’ll take some pointers, if you don’t mind.”

Hawke near choked on the last bit of his gyro. “Please, no. You, flirting? Besides with wine bottles, you mean.”

“I’m very good at it.” Fenris blinked at Hawke from across their micro-table, gyro neatly held in his hands and not a bit of it lost to gravity. It was a cool evening, so Fenris had pulled back out his wool sweaters, the thing so tight you could see each curve in his torso, in his arms. All dyed black as night, of course. “Lots of swooning.”

_ Yeah, I don’t doubt that.  _ Hawke wiped his hands clean and rolled his sleeves back down, wondering if Fenris even saw him the same way at all. “Bit of a heart-breaker, are you?”

The ears twitching were a dead giveaway, though the averted gaze and slight blush were nice additions as well. “No, well. No one really caught my eye, or held my attention much when I was younger.”

Hawke frowned at that, wondering… “And now?”

“That’s…” His gyro all but forgotten, Fenris finally turned his gaze downwards, as if remembering it was still there. He took a small bite.

“Personal. Right. Sorry.” Hawke laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood, words spilling out of his mouth before he could even stop himself, “I’ve had my heart broken more times than I could count. First they’re not into dudes, then they think you’re weird for being bi instead of just gay or aggressively heterosexual or whatever.”

_ Fucking Maker’s balls, did I just come out to Fenris? On DATE ONE!? _

Instead of commenting on it, Fenris lifted his gaze and smiled, just a touch, asking carefully, “Aggressively heterosexual?”

“You know.  _ That  _ one guy.” Hawke made a vague gesture with his hand, thinking immediately of his younger brother, Carver. Who was sure to have an interesting college experience. “‘ _ No homo _ ’, dude.”

“Ah. I see.” Fenris finished the last of his gyro and wiped his hands clean, shifting his gaze as the sun finally dipped beneath the ocean waves. When the conversation lulled, Hawke took it to heart, his pulse beating all too quickly after eating a full meal. Could he just die right here, right now? That’d be great, thanks. “In all my time here in Kirkwall, I’ve never made it to the pier. This view is truly beautiful.”

Hawke followed Fenris’ gaze and gave a small, relieved sigh.

*****

Afterwards was, blissfully, not nearly as weird. The two men wandered from the food trucks to the gamy area, watching as the stalls flickered to life in the dark, one by one, like winter lights. Games were picked purely on the prizes available, so they ended up playing a wide range, from shooters to ring toss. Hawke couldn’t aim for his life so it was Fenris that walked away with all the prizes, often times pitying Hawke with an awful plushie or two. 

When they stopped to re-hydrate and form a new game plan, Hawke couldn’t help but people-watch. Kirkwall was certainly full of different walks of life, Hawke and Fenris two prime examples of how the city would take you in and spit you right back out. Hawke hadn’t realized it until they sat down, but his phone had been vibrating like mad with incoming texts. Taking their breather to finally check, Hawke couldn’t help but be surprised when he saw who it was from.

“Hey, I need to call someone real quick.” Hawke set his toys on the table, feeling guilty that he was ditching Fenris so quickly. The elf didn’t look bothered by it though, and waved Hawke off, sipping cooly on his water bottle. “Sorry. Keep him safe, boys.” With a stern word to the plushies, Hawke was off, back to the only quiet place on the entire pier -- the designated fishing area, deserted at this time of night.

Anders picked up on the first ring. “Hey, about time.” He sounded rushed, panicked almost, and Hawke immediately felt guilty that he hadn’t called sooner.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I was out at dinner. Are you okay?” Hawke ran a hand down the railing, trying not to let his concern color his voice too much.

“I’m fine.” Pause. “Maybe not. Maker, Hawke...I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay. Just talk to me.” This was friendship duty #1 in Hawke’s book -- comfort distressed friends.

Karl and Anders had been together longer than Hawke had been in Kirkwall -- they had been childhood friends sent to the same camp or something, the details were fuzzy -- and they always seemed happy. Anders was busy with his nursing job and Karl was equally busy with his research, so their mismatched schedules hardly left time for dissent to grow between them.

The group had always wondered how serious Anders was about Karl -- and vise versa, Hawke could only guess -- but this was it. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

“He wants to  _ move. _ ” Anders said it like it was a fate similar to death. “Karl knows how important my work is here, Kirkwall has poverty unlike any other city this side of the continent.” Another pause. “And, Maker, I don’t know if...it just came out of nowhere, and I’m supposed to decide whether to make this relationship work or choose my work.”

“It sucks ass.” Hawke offered, unhelpfully.

“It sucks so much ass.” Anders groaned in the phone, sounding like he was at his wit’s end. “Can I just...vent for a bit? Are you busy?”

Hawke turned from his spot at the railing and caught Fenris sitting alone, scrolling sullenly through his smartphone. He looked divine, bathed in the light of his screen. But very bored, too, whereas only minutes ago Hawke had been able to make him laugh that handsome, soul-rumbling laugh.

“You know I always have time for you, Anders.” Hawke took a deep breath. “Start at the beginning.”


	10. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late release + short chapter -- Spring Break is this week and I was busy before. :/ Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait. Blood debts are always fun.

The date was cut short, as one might guess. Hawke returned to Fenris at the 10 minute mark and the two left the pier for home, Fenris blessedly cool about the whole thing. It wasn’t a date, after all. And Hawke totally wasn’t going to cherish the fact that Fenris gave him each and every single one of the dragon plushies he won. 

Oh, who the fuck was he  _ kidding _ ?

It was a  _ date _ . It ended on a sour note, or should have on account of everything that happened. When Hawke explained the situation, it was Fenris who insisted they return to the apartment and just go out a different time instead. The drive home was quiet, but a comfortable kind, and the rest of the night passed without any trouble. Hawke got home, put down his keys and wallet, and called Anders back up to hear the rest of the story.

By the time Anders had cooled down, the two of them had probably been on the phone for a total of two hours, broken only by the drive home and a single bathroom break. Hawke ended the call and finally noticed the time, grimacing -- it was near 10 pm already. After walking Princess one last time, Hawke locked up the house and returned to his bedroom, pausing only when he saw Fenris’ lights were still on.

Knocking gently on the wood, Hawke waited for the soft ‘come in’ before opening the door. Fenris was sitting at his desk, sheets of paper sprawled in chaos, along with small bottles of ink. For his tattoo designs, presumably. “Is Anders going to be alright?” Fenris glanced up from his drawings for a moment, the emotion in his green eyes hard to place. 

“Yeah.” Hawke sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “He just needed someone to listen, I think. What he decides to do is in his hands. But, I’m sorry about what happened. At the pier. I should have...I don’t know.”

Fenris gave a small shake of his head, amusement now clear as he smirked. “You could have hardly planned around that. It is good of you to look after your friends, Hawke.”

“Let me make it up to you anyway. You up to come to Champ’s tomorrow? I can offer free dinner and wine.” Hawke bit his lip, adding quickly, “Provided you don’t drink me out of business.”

Fenris glanced back down to his drawings, dipping an ink pen in the aqua blue, slowly filling one of the many circles on the paper. “I promise to behave. I do not plan on blacking out again, no matter how well that all worked to my advantage.”

“Oh. Good.” Hawke was pleased, and he wasn’t afraid to let it show. “Blacking out is really bad for you.”

“No, really?” Fenris dead-panned to his drawings, sparing Hawke a glance as the man scooted back into the hallway. 

“Really bad.” Hawke added one last time. “Just saying.”

“Goodnight, Hawke.”

*****

By all accounts, that following night at Champ’s should have gone swimmingly. It should have been the perfect night, accented with the occasional coo of doves and lit by only the star-filled sky.

What was it, then? Not that.

Hawke was breathing hard from his seat on the ground, a bit of blood trickling from his (maybe?) broken nose. Fenris, on the other hand, was pining the assailant to the ground and near making him cry ‘uncle’. It all started with a long night of drinking and a very crowded Champ’s.

Hawke was behind the bar with their part-timer Sebastian that night, Fenris enjoying his free meal at the center with a group of barely-legal girls on one side and frat boys on the other. The mood was especially light today, strange for a Monday, until Hawke realized some schools were letting out for Spring Break. With the weather being shit and Kirkwall having no place fun enough to travel to, Hawke couldn’t blame all the college kids for drinking instead. So long as they did it safely. Bonus points if no one threw up in the bathroom.

While the young ladies were all over Sebastian -- with his pretty blue eyes and thick accent, Hawke kind of wanted to join in too -- it was the frat boys that were trying to hit it up with Hawke. At first the man faltered, thinking they wanted free booze (which, yeah, apparently that worked). But then the crowd dispersed and there was only one frat boy left. He shifted nervously in his seat, looking away from Hawke, and it all suddenly made sense.

“Your friends are nice.” Hawke offered, grinning slightly when the stranger met his gaze. “But I have obligations elsewhere. Don’t take it too hard, yeah? With wingmen like them, you’ll do fine.”

“P-please, as if, I….” The frat boy sputtered a little more over his beer, cheeks turning as red as cherries. For a moment Hawke thought the guy was gonna bolt. “...thanks.” Hawke relaxed a bit and grabbed another beer for the blondie. Already he could see Varric’s nickname for this one: Stiff? Tall? Curly, for sure.

When Curly finally sulked back to his friends, Hawke thought that was that and went back to talking with Fenris, who had long since started watching Sebastian unsuccessfully fend off his new admirers. The night was smooth, tranquil, and so far? A better date. Even if Hawke was working the counter and Fenris kept cracking ‘shaken, not stirred’ jokes.

Hawke didn’t foresee one of the frat bros taking offense to their friend getting rejected. When Hawke took a break to use the bathroom, he didn’t think he’d be cornered and socked in the mouth. In the rush of events, Hawke hadn’t even guessed anyone would come to his rescue, much less Fenris.

Fenris, who looked like a toothpick against Beer-Belly McGee. “Hold up, kid --” Hawke threw up his hand in protest, thinking less of his own safety and more about the anger buried deep in the features of Fenris’ face. In the lapse of just a single breath, Fenris had the assailant with one arm pinned behind his back and his face smashed against the tiles of the floor. But Fenris seemed unconcerned, performing the physical feat as if it were as simple as swatting a fly. 

“What do you want me to do? Hawke.” Hawke didn’t like the flat tone in Fenris’ voice, nor the lack of emotion in his eyes. He scrambled from the floor and gently pulled Fenris up and off the poor kid, breathing hard as he pushed the trembling mess out of Champ’s and onto the street. The whole of the bar had hardly noticed the interruption, and for the time being, that was fine with Hawke. He looked back to Fenris still standing in the bathroom hallway, looking lost and confused. Without another word, Hawke motioned him to the back.

Rubbing the a spare cloth below his nose, Hawke attempted at wiping up all the blood his nose had managed to leak, sighing when it continued to spill. It had gone down even to his shirt, but at least his nose wasn’t broken. “What the hell was that about?”

The tone wasn’t good -- Fenris flinched from his position against the doorframe. “He attacked you! What was I supposed to do, let him  _ continue? _ ”

“No, but, Maker, Fenris, the kid was probably drunk. And he didn’t even do anything too bad --” Fenris glared at Hawke and marched over, pinching the man’s nose until Hawke scrambled away, choking back tears. “Okay! Maybe he broke my nose. But you can’t just pin someone to the floor and make em cry ‘uncle’ like that. We might get in legal trouble!”

Fenris diverted his gaze, crossing and un-crossing his arms as he fought for justification. In the time thereof, Hawke managed to calm himself and sighed, knowing this was going about the wrong way. “Thank you for saving me, though. You went at him like a pro.” Hawke thought briefly how Fenris had awaited instructions, then frowned. “Were you…?”

“Let’s not speak of it now.” Fenris threw Hawke off before he could even finish his thought, taking the blood-soaked cloth from Hawke’s hand and replacing it with a new one. “You need to go to the hospital.”

Though Hawke grumbled, he knew Fenris had a point. How lame would it be to explain  _ this  _ story, though? Except for the part about Fenris slamming that frat asshole into the ground. “You’re right. Lemme tell Sebastian, and I’ll call in someone else to help out for the night.” Hawke paused in the doorway leading out into the chaos, watching as Fenris carefully folded the blood-soaked rag into a neat square. Something about his calm demeanor had been disquieting, but Hawke couldn’t put a finger on the source. Not yet. “You were fierce out there. You know what they should call you?”

Oddly, Fenris tensed and paused in his actions. “No. What?”

“My knight in black, less shiny armor.” Hawke gave a small laugh, “Well, I’ll think of something catchier.”

“Please don’t.”


	11. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early, to make up for last week's chapter! I didn't plan for this chapter to be so dramatic, haha, but there it is! Thanks as always for your support!

“Anders, you are immaculate, a blessing straight from the Maker’s -- ow, fuck!” Hawke howled in pain when Anders set Hawke’s nose back in place, the man looking all too eager to cause his friend some pain. Fenris watched from his seat in the corner of the hospital room, an amused smirk playing on his lips when Hawke finally whimpered into silence. “Nevermind. I hate you.” 

“A nicer person would be thanking me. But you’re not so nice, are you?” Anders gently touched the bridge of Hawke’s nose and sighed with relief at the knowledge that nothing was broken beyond repair. “Do you want the brace or magic?”

“Magic, please. How bad is it, doc? Am I going to live?” Magic really was fascinating, and Anders’ healing magic had such a gentle green color to it. It was soothing, even if Hawke knew, to a lesser degree, that under his touch, bones could meld together; lungs could be coaxed into contracting; lives could be saved. Hawke closed his eyes as Anders patched him back together, glad this time it was something simple. “I always forget how good it feels. Magic.”

Anders smiled at that. “So I’ve been told. Good patients don’t talk when the nurse is trying to fix their face.”

“Sorry.”

Fenris leaned back in his chair and watched Anders at work. Magic was always a bane in his eyes, though he knew time and again magic could be used for the greater good. When one was abused with something like magic, it was harder to see the silver lining of such raw power. In a twist of his hand, Anders could stop Hawke’s heart and watch the life bleed away from him.

To be fair, so could Fenris.

But Hawke was healed, sitting up now in his chair and gingerly feeling his nose. “It’s a bit crooked, isn’t it?” His amber eyes flicked over to Fenris, grinning as he pointed to his nose. “Is it noticable?”

“Hardly.” Fenris stood from his chair and walked over, two fingers brushing over the tip of Hawke’s nose, laughing softly when Hawke brushed away his hand with a pout. “There will be no heroic boasting from you, then.”

“An interesting conversation piece.” Anders wiped his hands on his scrubs and went to put together a bag of goodies for Hawke. “‘How’d you break your nose?’ ‘Oh, I got slugged in the face by a frat boy.’” The red in Hawke’s cheeks were damning, making Anders laugh again. “For what, rejecting their friend?”

“If I had seen him coming, I would have been able to do something about it!” Hawke grumbled, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with a sore expression. “I’m no kung-fu master, but…”

“Best you didn’t.” Fenris grabbed up their jackets and handed Hawke his. “You might have hurt yourself, if those fencing lessons were any indication.”

“Ruff.” Hawke shrugged on his jacket and somberly buttoned it up, ignoring both grinning looks from Fenris and Anders. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“We’re not? Then that will be $150, stranger.” Anders slapped Hawke’s back and gave him the bag of salves. “Be safe. No more heroic bullshit, Hawke, you’re too tender for that.” 

The two men left Anders to his clinic, walking out into the chilly night to wait for their Uber. Though Hawke felt absolutely sober, considering everything that had just happened, his thoughts were too preoccupied to deal with something like traffic laws. They took the vacant bench outside, enjoying the quiet that came at 4 am. Hawke was starving, and exhausted, and the adrenaline from earlier was crashing around him. Fenris must have noticed, because he leaned back in the bench and murmured, “You can close your eyes if you need, Hawke. I can watch for the car.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He wanted to save all his exhaustion for his comfortable bed at home, not some metal bench as cold as a frozen lamppost. “I was just thinking.”

“What of?” A sigh floated into the air, soft and white, like a cloud, from Fenris’ parted lips.

“The first time I was mugged in Kirkwall.” Seeing Fenris’ head jerk back down with surprise, Hawke continued, his hands clasped in his lap. “I was out with Carver -- my younger brother -- and some kid bumped into me. Didn’t think anything of it until I realized my wallet was gone. The two of us managed to chase him down but by then someone else had already caught him.”

“That was how I met Varric, you know. And things just went from there. I never thought this is where I’d be, when I first got here. It’s dark, it’s wet and awful and plagued from here to the Deeproads, but…” Hawke trailed off, a fond smile on his lips. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Fenris had been quiet all the while, his green, steely gaze focused on the stars in the sky. Hawke studied his profile for only a moment before turning away, feeling like an unwelcome guest in Fenris’ silence. “I would...not agree. There are aspects I would change, in my own life.” Fenris said, his words catching Hawke off-guard. “What would my life be like if I met you even a year earlier? I wonder.”

Flustered, Hawke couldn’t think of a response. He didn’t need to.

“You’ve made something for yourself here, Hawke, while I remain like a parasite: scrambling for my own piece of the glory. But you’ve shown me something irreplaceable, Hawke. You’ve shown me what it’s like to,” Fenris licked his lips, fought for the word, “to feel again. After all that had happened, I did not think this possible. Never.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, making their two inches of personal space on the bench feel like two miles. Hawke still didn’t know what to say; he was flattered. He was stunned. He was not worthy, not of praise like that. What did he do? He introduced Fenris to his friends, shared a bottle of wine, made a sandwich or two to share like friends do. That was hardly worth this star-speckled confession.

“Fenris…”

“I just want you to know.” Fenris cut Hawke off, his gaze still trained ahead of them, unwavering. “Though my timing is never ideal. 4 am is not the time for these sort of conversations, is it?”

“Not unless there’s a beer in hand.” Hawke felt breathless, wishing more than anything that Fenris would look at him. “I -- thank you. I appreciate it.”

“No snippy comment?”

“None. Wow.”

Fenris finally chuckled, tearing his gaze away from the stars but still refusing to look at Hawke. “Then I have something to say to you.” Hawke’s heart tightened with expectations, expectations he didn’t have the right to have. Their gazes finally met and in the damning silence that followed, Hawke thought he’d die.

“I am yours.”

*****

Trying to sleep after everything that had happened was as impossible as one might think -- even when they arrived home, and went their separate ways, Hawke found himself replaying that scene over and over. Not because he was thrilled -- but because he was confused. Fenris was a character in of himself, and often his responses left room for question.

_ I am yours. _

Hawke could take their words for their base value, but he thought that might not be what Fenris wanted. So he laid awake, lying on his back and pondering the events that had occurred over the last 24 hours. It was hard not think of how close Fenris was -- just a few rooms away, probably sleeping peacefully. Hawke rolled onto his side and stared at his blinking alarm clock, with its big, fluorescent numbers: 8:02 am. Princess would need to go out soon.

Hawke decided to scrap his plans for the day and just take Princess on a long walk, the two of them turning the corner to the park and Princess sprinting off as soon as Hawke un-clipped her leash. He followed her down into the park trails, watching her splash through chilled puddles and tear her way through the brush. Life as a dog was fun and uncomplicated.

Not that this had to be complicated.

Finding an old, deflated tennis ball on the path, Hawke threw it for Princess, finally smiling when his Mabari missed not once, but twice, in attempting to catch it. As she rolled around with her newfound toy, Hawke pulled out his phone and checked his texts, smiling again when he saw each one.

**Isabella (3:01am)** : I heard wh8t happened! Give me the address. I’ll shoot him ;> cheers

**Merrill (3:22am):** Hawke are you okai I heard you got in trouble at the bar maybe if I had been there nothing would have happened I’m so sorry so sorry Hawke will you be okay? I can bring cheese or soup if you want someone to visit tomorrow I’m pretty sure my new herb recipe will not make you sick this time

**Varric (7:00am):** Let me know you’re alive, Hawke.

**Aveline (7:52am):** Bella and I willing to go hunting for frat boy. Send detailed description. 

**Anders (5:14am):** picture attached. Check it out ;-)

Isabella and Merrill must have been texting at the same time -- that would explain the closeness of their texts. Sebastian must have texted them after Hawke left for the hospital. But the picture from Anders left Hawke curious. Clicking it open, he near choked right then and there. 

It was him and Fenris, shoulder-to-shoulder, gazes locked like they were about to kiss. As if he needed another reminder of ‘I am yours’. Grumbling, Hawke smashed back a curt text to Anders alone, pausing when it was done. He was just teasing. Hawke erased his messages and shoved his phone back in his pocket, realizing Princess had settled to chew on a nearby fallen tree.

He walked to her side, hands gentle as he scratched at her exposed belly, chuckling when her rear end started to wiggle with delight. As much as Hawke didn’t want to return just yet, it was better to go at it now and not when he worried about it for the rest of his life.

“Hey.” Hawke tried to come off strong, talking as soon as he entered his flat, but the sight of Fenris at the stove made him stop. There was nothing inherently startling about the scene, but it was sort of nice to have someone waiting when you got home. There was no other way to explain it.

The coffee Hawke had started before leaving on his walk was already poured and a second batch made, with Fenris at the stove making over-simplified french toast. He looked disheveled, sleep-deprived, just like Hawke, but he was smiling to himself, soft classical music playing from the phone on the counter. “Morning, Hawke.” His voice was so gravelly, in the morning, even worse than when he was in a strained mood. “There’s toast if you’re wanting.”

“Oh. Uh, sure.” Hawke kicked off his boots and un-clipped Princess, padding his way into the kitchen. Fenris was near his height, maybe a little taller, but he was so lean, all muscle, not like Hawke at all.

He didn’t know what he was doing. It was crazy, right? Hawke raised his hand to brush away Fenris’ soft, white hair and paused when Fenris brought his green-eyed gaze to meet Hawke’s amber. Before Hawke could even summon the courage -- his face turning a lethal shade of red, his heart threatening to abandon ship, brain already rushing for any excuse at all -- Fenris bent down and kissed him. 


	12. Aqua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke forgets Bethany and Carver were supposed to visit.

_Fenris is leaving._

The realization hit Hawke at the worst time possible – just a second into their awkward, tentative kiss in the kitchen. Hawke was sweaty from his walk with Princess and Fenris was so sleep-deprived he probably didn’t even know what he had initiated. When the kiss was broken and Hawke pulled away, he chanced a look up at Fenris’ face, blush deepening at the proud-yet-sleepy look the man had. “Whu…you, you just…”

“Sorry.” That look of pride melted from his features quickly, Fenris’ body growing tense as he studied Hawke’s reaction. “Was that not…?”

“No, I mean, yes! I mean,” Hawke groaned and rubbed his face, delighted and horrified at the same time. _Fenris is leaving._ “You’re so much better than I imagined.”

That seemed to whittle out a chuckle from Fenris, who leaned back from the stove and ran a hand through his hair. “Then another wouldn’t be unwelcome?”

A silly question, Hawke bridging the gap between them in a heartbeat, their lips meeting in a flurry of passion. Fenris slammed Hawke back against the wall, hands on Hawke’s hips and taking charge and HAWKE LOVED IT.

He was about to whimper something pathetic, ‘ _fuck me on the table, no, that’s fine, or the floor, I cleaned it recently so it’s kind of hygienic, just fucking take me!!’_ but then his doorbell rang. Fenris took a step back from Hawke, his lips already bruised from their all-too-brief frantic kissing. Hawke was too busy melting to the floor to bother answering the door so Fenris did in his stead, letting out a small strangled noise when he saw who was in his doorway.

The ultimate cock-block. His _favorite_ cock-block. Bethany looked startled at the sight of Fenris in Hawke’s apartment, stammering through an apology before Princess came barreling through. “S-sorry to bother you, I thought my brother Garrett was, uh, living here.”

Another, grumpier voice joined in with Bethany’s stammering, though Hawke couldn’t see Carver from where he sat on the floor. “Maker, Beth, let’s just go.”

“No, no!” Hawke scrambled from his floor to the door, slamming his hands on the frame as Carver and Bethany made their way down the walkway. “I’m here – please don’t leave!”

“Maker’s breath, Garrett.” Bethany laughed, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of red when she glanced once more to Fenris. Realization was dawning on the twins’ faces and Garrett was not going to stand for that, not for one second. “Did you forget?”

“No, of course not.” He had. But Hawke didn’t mention that as he ushered the two inside in a hurry, knowing this looked bad at best. “Take a seat. We were just having breakfast.” Once the twins were sitting at the kitchen table, Hawke tugged Fenris into the hallway and died. Just straight up took one look at Fenris’ naked disappointment and died.

“I’m so so sorry. I forgot.” Hawke ran a hand through his disheveled hair, briefly remembered how it had felt to be smashed against the kitchen wall. _FUCK._ “They’re only here for the day before I drive them back to uni, and, uh, they’re friendly. Beth is. Carver isn’t. Don’t look him in the eye.”

“Duly noted.” Fenris added dryly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he turned back to glance at the kitchen table where the two kids sat. “Should I make myself scarse?”

“Uh.” A good question. “I don’t remember what I promised them, so I’m going to say no. It might be fun. Please come?”

“They wouldn’t mind?”

Another damn good question, wow, Fenris was on a roll. “Fucking…I’m sure they wouldn’t. We just need to get dressed and eat. Sound good?” Fenris finally gave a small nod of acknowledgement and ducked into his bedroom to get dressed, leaving Hawke to hurry back to his siblings.

“Who was that, Garrett?” Beth was first to pounce, as curious as a cat. Carver faked his disinterest, but Hawke could tell the boy was waiting for an answer too.

“My roommate. My very nice roommate who deserves respect and smiles, especially because I forgot to inform him we were having guests.” Hawke pinched Bethany’s cheek and smiled when she giggled. “So it’s okay if he comes with us, right? To the, uh…”

“The fucking moon.” Carver snorted.

“The aquarium. Oh, Garrett, you promised!” Bethany smacked Carver on his arm and turned back to look up at Garrett, her eyes alight with excitement. “Of course he can come. It’ll be fun!”

“Great. Hold tight for just a sec, squirts.” Hawke hurried off to his own bedroom to get changed, wondering if this would go better than date #1. He returned freshly dressed in his favorite form-hugging black t-shirt, red flannel throw, dark-washed jeans, and his trusty hiking boots. The kitchen was alive with conversation, Bethany throwing Fenris questions as fast as the words could form in her mouth, his roommate looking pleased but a little overwhelmed. Carver’s eyes were tracing up and down Fenris’ exposed tattoos.

“If we’re ready?” Hawke rescued Fenris from his sibling’s overzealous attentions, only to find that they restarted as soon as everyone had their seatbelts on. “This isn’t 50 Questions, Bethany.” Hawke laughed nervously from the front wheel, starting up the engine and easing them out onto the road. “You could ease up a bit.”

“I don’t mind, Hawke.” Fenris smiled from the passenger’s seat next to him, glancing back at Bethany and Carver in the back seat. “Though I would like to hear about college.”

“Me too, now that I think about it.” Hawke adjusted his mirror at a red light and paused with surprise when it was Carver that spoke first.

“My roommate dropped out, so now I have the whole place to myself.” The pride was practically dripping from Carver’s words. “Better than Beth’s situation.”

“It’s absolutely the worst! My roommate is so inconsiderate and hardly talks at all so if I want to discuss something, I don’t know if I’m hurting her feelings or if she’s planning to murder me or…”

“I meant classes, you two. You do go to those, right?” Hawke laughed when the twins both grumbled a meek ‘yeah’ in response.

“Of course I go to class but its state uni, it’s not like its challenging.” Beth was always the brilliant one of the set, though Hawke wondered how hard something like art classes could be. It wasn’t so much the level of difficulty as much as being careful with your time.

“Speak for yourself,” Carver, ah, Carver, “my professors are all out to fail me, I feel it. I don’t even know what I want to do yet but they’re forcing me out before I can decide! Gen Eds are such shit.”

“You still need to forward me your Economics book, Carver.” Hawke reminded him gently. “Preferably before you drop out.”

“Ha ha.” Carver spat back, arms crossed like a haughty child. “What do you need it for? Last time we talked you said Champ’s was doing okay.”

“Because of Varric, not me.” The three dissolved into random chit-chat, Hawke glad to hear that the twins were doing well in school (despite Carver swearing his teachers were out to get him) and they greatly appreciated their higher education, thank you Hawke and Mother. Hawke had never had a chance to go to college but for the most part he didn’t regret it, especially when he got his half of the tuition bill in the mail each semester.

College was good and all, but luckily for Hawke it just wasn’t necessary for his line of work. Varric ran finances and taking inventory hardly required a PhD. Now, Beth, who wanted to go into Psychology, and Carver, who was maybe leaning towards law enforcement, both needed that good ol’ college education. At least to get a semi-decent job.

“What about you, Fenris? Did you go to uni?” Bethany leaned up towards the front of the car to get a good look at the man who had been silent almost the entirety of the trip.

“Mm.” Fenris looked up from his phone and gave a small nod, expression hard to read. “I did, for a short period of time. But there was hardly any one thing I wanted to do, so I eventually left.”

“Oh! Where did you go?”

“Ile-de-Orlais.” The words rolled off Fenris’ tongue, and thankfully for Hawke he knew enough French to get the jist.

“Orlais!” Bethany gasped.

“No way.” Even Carver leaned forward, interested.

Fenris laughed, leaning back in his chair to hide the embarrassing blush on his cheeks. “It’s true! It was only for a year – but it was an amazing experience. As one might expect.”

“Well here I am, taking you to Kirkwall’s aquarium.” Hawke felt suddenly pretty inadequate but Fenris was having none of it.

“The one place I’ve never been. Have you been before?” The twins were quick to inform Fenris of all the mildly interesting places they had visited, their conversation cut short only by the fact that they had finally arrived. Kirkwall Aquarium was one of the few jewels of the city, mostly thanks to the fact that they had direct access to the Waking Sea. It boasted a large collection of aquatic animals as well as a rehabilitation center that took in injured marine animals.

Aquariums were Beth’s favorite thing, so the Hawke family had been to its fair share. There was only so much you could do at an aquarium, after all, and dolphin shows started to look the same after a while. Hawke’s favorite aquarium was Kirkwall’s for a very special reason: their huge 15 ft-tall tank. It took up a large part of the aquarium and had a walkway going right through it until the end, where it pooled into a room were the walls were made entirely of glass. Hawke had seen in a million times now, so he walked with the twins quickly through the walkway, more excited to get to the room at the end.

Fenris walked a bit slower, head tilted up as he made his way down the walkway, taking in the fish of all colors, sizes, and makes. It was an aquatic paradise, something he wanted to study just a bit longer. Bethany quickly pointed out the single tiger shark present, swimming around like the king of the tank as smaller feeder fish followed quickly behind.

The aquarium was quiet for a Tuesday morning, as was expected, so the four of them had the run of the place. When Fenris finally made his way into the end room of the aquarium he let out a quiet ‘wow’ and found himself beside Hawke on the railing. “It looked smaller on the outside.”

“You one for fish? I’m thinking he looks like I would be fed for a good week.” Hawke’s finger followed one of the parrotfish lazily making its way towards the bottom of the tank. “Or the shark, too. Think I could take him?”

“With what?” Fenris laughed and watched the tiger shark swim to the other side of the room, slow and proud like the shark it was. “Best not. I think they’re endangered. I’d prefer the turtle, instead.”

“No!” Hawke gasped, watching the poor one-flipper sea turtle flop about in the water. “He hasn’t hurt anyone. Look how sad he is.”

“Have you had turtle before?” Fenris licked his lips for effect, laughing again when Hawke turned away in distress. “Tastes like chicken.”

“I’m not listening to you. You are an evil turtle hater and no longer a friend.”

“Can you _please_ stop talking about eating the fish in the aquarium?” Bethany finally groaned from the other side of the room. Hawke and Fenris stifled their answering laughter and instead turned their attention to the information plaques on the floor.

Kirkwall didn’t have the nicest beaches in the world, but they were there, and if the weather wasn’t shit Hawke would have maybe invited Fenris out. Too bad he was deathly afraid of the ocean. Aquariums like this was the best he could do.

“Don’t they have smaller exhibits?” Fenris nodded back to the walkway, Hawke following after telling the twins they were moving on.

“You’ve been to aquariums all around, then?” Hawke asked as they studied a group of jellyfish, a mixture of blues, pinks, and purples, all crowded together in a cluster of death.

“More than. I once traveled to this land where you could go swimming with jellyfish and they wouldn’t sting you. They had no natural predators so they lost that protective adaptation.” Fenris pressed his finger to the information plaque and silently read, his green eyes following the line of text.

“Really?” Hawke let out a low whistle and snapped a picture of the jellyfish, flipping through filters until he found one he liked. “You’re the experienced traveler, aren’t you? I’m…. _jelly.”_

The answering groan of misery from Fenris was all Hawke need, the two men grinning as they continued on. “I traveled with my boss, and sometimes he visited mildly interesting places.” Fenris stopped in front of the seahorses, smiling when Hawke bent down to get a better look. “When he wasn’t busy being a garbage human.”  

“You really didn’t like him, huh?” Hawke snapped another photo.

“Danarius was a monster in human form, yes.” Fenris’ smile disappeared, replaced with a hard grimace. “He died just before you and I met.”

“Were you celebrating his death? That’s _morbid_ , Fenris.” Hawke chuckled, glancing over at Fenris. His expression made Hawke pause, realizing all too late that they had crossed into something serious.

Fenris took Hawke’s phone gently, holding it up and snapping a picture of Hawke beside the seahorses. “I was.” He smiled just slightly at the picture, green eyes downcast. “It meant I no longer had to run.”

“Fenris…”

The other man said nothing, just closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Then he handed Hawke back his phone and took his wrist in his hand to lead him farther on. “Another conversation for another day. You want to see the sea turtle exhibit, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Hawke cracked a smile for Fenris’ sake, the two of them walking side-by-side.   


	13. Black Cat

The aquarium was followed by a trip to the pier for a late lunch, but not before Carver and Bethany got to pick out a souvenir from the shop. Hawke glanced back at the twins and smiled, thinking they seemed to be doing just fine in everything, and hoped that would continue for them. They deserved that much. They parked and waited for Bethany to pick a food-truck to eat at, Hawke leafing through his wallet to see how much he had left to spend.

The twins made good on that, though, purchasing lunch for all four of them at a hamburger food-truck. “You having a good time?” Hawke asked Carver when it was just the two of them. Bethany and Fenris offered to get drinks at a nearby vending machine, the two of them already fast friends. But Carver, as ever, was slow to open up to anyone new.

“Yeah. Thanks for taking us out.” Carver took a bite of his hamburger and chewed, saying between bites, “I haven’t had much time to hang with Beth, with classes and all.”

“You think you might want to stick around for tonight, too?” Hawke felt he should ask, though he already knew the answer. Though their schedule left their Tuesdays open, Bethany and Carver both had classes Wednesday, and the drive down to uni was substantial enough that it’d be a pain to try to make it there in the morning.

Carver gave a small shake of his head, smiling all the while. “Nah. You know how it is. Besides, we wouldn’t want to cramp you style. Your roommate is cute.”

“Damn.” Hawke felt heat rise to his cheeks, wishing Carver hadn’t read too much into it. “Yeah, he is. And I like him a lot. But,”

And here Carver was kind enough to wait, to let Hawke gather his thoughts,

“--he’s leaving in two weeks, give or take. There’s so little time.”

“It isn’t like you to give up.” Carver finished the last of his burger and chewed, concerned when he saw the naked sadness touching his older brother’s features. “C’mon, Garrett. That’s pathetic.”

“I know!” Hawke exploded before he could stop himself, aware people were looking now, Carver included. “Sorry.” Hawke rubbed his hand across his face, feeling all his insecurities bunch up and pour out. "I know. I tried to kiss him this morning and he – he beat me to it. I didn’t know what to make of it. And there was this weird conversation we had, where he said this thing that didn’t make sense, and…”

“Hey.” Carver stopped Hawke’s stream of conscious with a light hand on his back, making Hawke bite his tongue with surprise. Carver, caring? As if. But the boy was growing into a man, and maybe college had managed to hammer in some maturity. “Garrett. It’s fine.”

“You say that so easily.” Hawke laughed, feeling broken. But Carver was right, for once – he was overreacting, and not in the funny, haha way.

“You’ve got two weeks.”

“Hopefully.”

Carver gave Hawke’s back a compassionate slap. “So fucking use it.”

*****

“No, no, ah, fuck!” Hawke groaned with misery when Bethany defeated him yet again, her smirk all too irritatingly triumphant as he was forced to give her cheek a kiss. “Okay, you’ve thoroughly whipped my ass yet again, sister dearest.”

Bethany smiled and waited as Carver was handed Hawke’s controller. “As if there was any doubt. Try to not disappoint me next time.”

“She’s only so good because she has nothing else to do.” Carver laughed as he settled on the couch, his laughter quickly cut off when Bethany pinched his arm. “OW!”

It was nearing 10 PM now, with all four of them mildly exhausted from their day of fun. The couch had been cleared for videogame time, Bethany and Carver currently whacking each other virtually via Dragon Fighter. Hawke, having been defeated, sat on the sidelines with Fenris -- who was nursing a glass of wine -- who didn’t do too well on his turn either. “Hurry up and get a boyfriend, Beth.” Hawke muttered, also bitter.

“Could say the same to you, Garrett.” Bethany shot back, huffing when she lost the round. “And stop distracting me. We’re all in the same, miserable boat.”

“That sounds too much like spinster language, young lady.” Hawke chuckled into his glass of water, adjusting in his seat when Fenris moved to stretch out. Taking Fenris’ feet into his lap, Hawke watched the screen with baited breath as Bethany won the next round. Here was the tiebreaker.

Fenris’ feet shifted just so in Hawke’s lap, making the man realize with dread what he had just unconsciously done. At home, Bethany loved to stretch out over Hawke, always complaining that there wasn’t enough room on the couch for the three of them. So he was used to having someone drape their limbs over his own. Hawke snuck a look at Fenris, surprised to see the elf wasn’t looking at him. But those long ears were drooped and growing red at the tips, and Fenris had his face hidden by his wine glass.

His feet shifted again, pressing just so against –

Hawke jumped just as the twins did, Bethany gasping with outrage while Carver let out a victorious whoop of laughter. Hawke hadn’t even seen the TV screen, could barely think as he smacked Fenris’ feet at the _indignity_ of it all. Fenris only smiled in return and wiggled his toes.

Fenris, teasing? That was something Hawke would gladly embrace. But Bethany was handing her controller to Fenris, distracting the elf from doing anything mildly tempting for at least three minutes. “Do you mind if we change characters?” Fenris asked. Carver answered by going back to the selection screen, watching patiently as Fenris flipped through. After selecting a broadsword warrior, they started again, Fenris this time easily wiping the floor with Carver.

Carver’s earlier win against Bethany was looking a little too lucky, now. Here they were, Hawke vs. Fenris, shield knight vs. broadsword warrior. “You never seemed to me like the videogame type.” Hawke commented off-hand once they got into the swing of things. For the most part, they were evenly matched.

“I’m not.” Fenris bit his lip in concentration, green eyes squinting as he stared at the screen. The controllers cracked under the energy of the two men, a furious cacophony of talent. “I played it while you were at work.”

“Scandalous.” Hawke groaned in defeat when Fenris butchered him both rounds, offering his controller to Bethany. “One more round?”

“We should actually get going.” Bethany gave a nod to the clock on the wall, her long brown hair bouncing as she stood and started to pack up. “I have an 8 am.”

“It’s so late though.” Hawke glanced at the clock and winced at the time. It was already pitch-black outside, and he didn’t want the twins driving in that. “Just stay the night.”

“I can’t. If I miss my morning class one more time my teacher will dock me.” Carver grunted as he pulled out his keys and flipped through them. “I’ll drive slow.”

“Promise?” Hawke stood to give his siblings a hug, squeezing them until Bethany squealed with laughter. He gave her a kiss on the head just cause, ruffling Carver’s hair just to be unequally fair. “Thanks for coming, you too. I’ll be down next time. There better not be any cats, Beth.”

“I’m not a spinster!”

“I’m just saying. Think of how heartbroken Princess would be.” There was another round of hugs and kisses, as well as hugs for Fenris, who also rose to see them off. It was just a 45 minute drive, and it _was_ late at night – at least the drive would be traffic-free. Then the twins were off, shouldering their way to the car through the cold. Hawke shut the door and realized, somehow too late, that he and Fenris were now alone.

Fenris had returned to the couch, picking up a controller for himself and the other for Hawke. “Let’s play a few more rounds.”

There was no hesitation as Hawke hurried to his side.

They played for a good 20 minutes, talking lightly about how the twins had impressed Fenris in a multitude of ways. Fenris also mentioned being interested in going to the beaches before he left, saying he hoped it would warm enough for some swimming.

“Yeah. That’d be good.” Hawke leaned back into the couch, feeling exhaustion sapping at his remaining strength. It had been a long day, and was bound to be long tomorrow too, with all he had to catch up at work for suddenly skipping out. “Hey, you know? Isabela and Merrill are getting married two weeks out, before you leave. You want to go to their wedding? It’d be on the water, so. It’d be fun, Isabela knows how to throw a shin-dig.”

“That’s the two dark-haired women, right?” Hawke gave a small nod, watching as Fenris pulled out his phone and started to scroll through his calendar. Hawke moved closer to Fenris’ side, their faces almost touching as he watched Fenris punch in the date. “Isabela…and Merrill. What should I buy for them?”

“Don’t ask me – I hardly know. I’ll give you their wedding registry later.” Merrill had been the one to set all that up, so it was more likely to please her than Isabela, but what pleased one was sure to please the other. Hawke moved to sit back up but paused when Fenris cleared his throat.

“About this morning.”

“The toast was really good.” Hawke blurted, heat washing over him when Fenris just chuckled. Could he manage to not be an idiot for more than 5 minutes? Stay tuned.

“Not that.” Fenris’ voice was getting low and gravely, like he had just woken up. It was so damn seductive, and he knew it, watching as Hawke’s face grew an even more frightening shade of red. “The kiss.”

“Oh.”

Fenris shifted on the couch, though if he was uncomfortable Hawke couldn’t tell, too mortified to look up. “Was it wrong of me?”

“OH.” Hawke knew now was the time and place to put everything out in the open. ‘ _Yes, I like you. Yes, please feel free to kiss me anytime you please. I consider you a friend and am excited to see how we’ll be as lovers. By the way, I prefer to bottom. You seem to be okay with that.’_ Simple. He just had to form the goddamn words and spit them out in an articulate manner.

Hawke’s phone rang on the table, startling both men into jumping to their feet. While Fenris just laughed nervously and walked into the kitchen, Hawke instead died internally and picked up his phone. It was Mother, of all people, calling at near 11 PM. An unusual shift in his mother’s normally mindful morals, Hawke knew immediately something was wrong. He glanced to Fenris and took the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize ahead of time for what's to come.


	14. Clipped Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter upload... As always, thanks so much for all your support and lovely comments -- they really make my day! :> A lot changes in this chapter so I hope it's not too upsetting for anyone? 
> 
> As always, thanks!

When Hawke was 22, his father died. The illness had been slow, creeping, but Malcolm had not suffered. His family was another story entirely.

Unable to handle the sudden financial strain that came with a sudden passing, the remaining Hawkes had been forced to cross the Waking Sea to Kirkwall to seek assistance from Mother’s brother. And….here they were. Some 5 years later and Hawke thought nothing would ever hurt again.

How positively naïve.

Hawke shouldered his way into the hospital room with a blistering smile, bouquet in his hand so heavy with roses it was threatening to collapse upon itself. Carver was awake, one eye barely open. His face was so swollen you could barely see any part of him – and what you did see what bruised purple or blue. One leg in a cast was propped up in a sling, the rest of Carver looking uncomfortably stiff and starched in a full-body cast.

He thought he’d be strong when he saw them, but this was still too much for Hawke to even process. He should have argued for them to stay. He should have driven them back himself. There were so many branches of fate where this could have turned worse, he knew, he was grateful it didn’t, but it tore him up to know he almost lost both of them. “Hey.” Hawke cracked out, setting the roses on the table between the twins. “How are you holding up?” Bethany was still asleep, exhausted from using up her entire mana supply after the accident. It was because of her Carver was even alive.

“Stiff.” Carver huffed out, so drugged up Hawke was surprised anything the boy said made sense. “And bored. Change the channel, Garrett, I’ve been watching this nonsense for three hours.”

Hawke turned and squinted up at the TV, flipping through channels until Carver picked a new one. The nurses had been darting in and out of the room all this week, but paid less attention to the twins since their condition was ‘stable’. Beth would be out at the end of the week while Carver would have to make up a whole semester of school work. It could be worse. Could’ve been worse.

Carver could be dead.

They told him when he arrived in the emergency room, breathless, full of fear, that Beth had pumped enough magic in Carver to keep his heart beating. That her hands had been covered in blood when they found the both of them in their car, down in the dip of the hill. The other driver hadn’t been so lucky – he had died at impact, with a whole back seat full of empty beer bottles.

Bethany could be dead.

And it was a thought that ran through him over and over, each day of that week when he sat between their beds and talked to them. His hands trembled with the knowledge of it. He paced his hotel floors, restless, with the knowledge of it. Mother had her fair share with it as well, being the more adaptive of the two and thanking the Maker for their lives.

Hawke would get there one day. Maybe when Bethany’s scars healed over or when Carver could walk freely. Until then he would do what brothers did best – worry himself to death in exchange. “Brother.” Carver was talking again, squinting at his exhausted man. “You’ve been here all week?”

“Yeah.” Hawke rubbed a hand over his face and sighed softly, knowing Carver had been drugged up for the majority of it – his memory was no doubt fuzzy. “Sick of me yet?”

“You know I’m not.” Carver grunted, smacking Hawke with his free arm. “Don’t you have something better to do? We’re not going anywhere. I’m not, anyway. You have a business to run, Garrett, don’t run it to the ground for us.”

“I’m not.” Hawke thanked the Maker that came out softly. “Varric is looking over things while I’m gone. Its fine, _I want_ to be here. I want to be here for you. What kind of brother would I be otherwise?”

“One with a life?” Carver and Hawke both sighed when they heard Bethany’s voice, turning to look as their youngest sister winked at them. She had been saved from a majority of the crash, with only a broken leg that mirrored both of Carver’s. “Garrett, you’re sweet.” She winced as she sat up, but continued like a champ anyway, “But Mother’s here, and so is --”

“No, no, don’t saw her name it’s like summoning Voldemort, it’s her calling!” Hawke paused, waited, and when nothing happened, continued, “If I’m truly a burden…”

“Of course you’re not, Garrett, but you’re, oh, how to say this…” Bethany trailed off when the hospital door opened again, her gaze drawn to the source. Hawke braced himself and turned, his mood immediately souring at the sight of his sister.

“Depressing?” Marian smirked in the doorway, impossibly tall and bulky, her campaign as a Ferelden soldier leaving her more physically fit than necessary. Not that Hawke was jealous. “C’mon, Garrett, give me a smile.”

Hawke sulked and glared until Mother entered behind Marian, sighing as the twins glared each other down. “No fighting in the hospital, you two. I already have an injured pair of twins, my heart can’t handle another.” She took the salve in Marian’s hands and sat beside Carver, that the end of that as far as she was concerned, Maker take anyone who argued.

Marian Hawke was, infuriatingly, Garrett Hawke’s twin. She joined the Air Force at 18 and made something of herself, and was, respectfully, fucking annoying about it. Some said Hawke was just _repressing_ his _loneliness_ and lashing out because of _insecurity_ , but that was obviously rubbish. “Fuck off.” Hawke muttered, refusing to give up just yet. “I’m a fuckin’ ray of sunshine.”

“Language!”  
  
“Mother.” Hawke sighed and leaned back, his back touching the bedside table he had so carefully placed his roses on (which no one had yet commented on, rude). “I’m not being a bother, am I?”

“Of course not, dear.” Mrs. Hawke brushed back Carver’s bangs lovingly and gave the boy a gentle kiss on his purplish forehead. “We’re just concerned that you may be neglecting other important aspects of your life.”

“Like Princess.” Carver offered, unhelpfully.

“Or your hot roommate.” Bethany giggled, sitting still as Marian braided her hair.

Hawke knew they were being kind, they were being thoughtful, but the rejection still hurt. “I want to be here when you’re both discharged.” It was his fault.

“I’ll call you every day, Garrett.” Bethany compromised, taking Hawke’s hand in her own, feeling the brief tremble of pain. “And complain about Carver.”

Hawke finally cracked a smile, feeling a surge of love for his little sister. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Carver chimed in from the other bed. He smiled, despite the obvious pain it caused, and tried to focus on Hawke’s face. “Dork.”

Hawke could hardly argue with the two sick people he cared about most, so he excused himself after distributing kisses and more promises. Marian met him halfway down the hallway, her fingers just barely grazing his shoulder in a gentle attempt to make him stop. “Garrett, give me a second.”

They had discharged her just after the rest of them had settled in Kirkwall, leaving Marian stranded in a Ferelden that no longer housed her family – only their graves. Getting in contact had been hard after the move, despite all the lengths they went to assure that there was some way Marian could get in touch. By the time she had found them, she had been living in Ferelden for over 6 months. Letters had been lost, messages mixed up; there was no way for her to catch up. So she stayed.

Hawke had no reason to feel abandoned. Not by her. If anything…

“Yeah.” Hawke turned and looked up at his twin sister, smiling when he realized just how much taller she was. Damn it, she had to have everything. “What’s up?”

“It’s been so long since we last caught up, and I wanted to…you know. Get in touch with you. You haven’t been returning my calls.” Marian shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous with her back exposed. She kept glancing back like something was coming. “I’ll be living with Mother until the time being, so I’ll be around for a while. We don’t have to talk now, but…”

“This time, I’m making the promise.” Hawke murmured, pleased when Marian finally cracked that smug-ass smile of her’s. “Come visit me up in Kirkwall – drinks are on me.”

“You’re an ass, but I’ll forgive you for drinks.” Marian laughed, pulling her shorter twin in for a soul-crushing huge. “Drive safe.”

“Maker, don’t remind me.” Hawke wheezed when she released him, turning around and continuing down the pristine hallway.

The drive back up to Kirkwall was spent organizing everything he had missed in the last week. Isabela and Merrill’s wedding was the night after next, which meant that Fenris was….

Fuck, if Hawke was pressed for time before, now was even worse. Hawke also couldn’t help but feel guilty of even thinking of his crush while the twins were in the hospital. His mind was swimming with too much information – and by the time Hawke pulled into his driveway, he felt more confused than before.

Princess was excited to see him, her entire body shaking as she barked and circled around him. Hawke dropped his suitcase to the floor and went with it, cupping Princess’ face as she breathed her stank breath on him. “Good dog.” He murmured, smiling until she started to slobber on him. “Ugh, Maker, never mind.” He rolled her on her back instead, rubbing her belly until she farted in gratitude and struggled to lick him again.

For the first time in an entire week, Hawke was home. Nothing had changed while he was away, unsurprisingly, but the constant of it almost felt unnatural. The twins had almost died. Why was everything else still the same? The world – nay, his house, even – should be wrapped in depressed ‘what ifs’ just like him. It was only fair.

Letting out a shaky breath, Hawke stood from his entry floor and made his way down to his bedroom, near crying when he saw how Princess had been tossing and turning in it. “Maker, I love you.” He scratched Princess’ ears with a smile and started to unpack, pausing only when he heard a small knock on his door.

Fenris was dressed in loose sleeping clothes, the bags under his eyes a sign that he too, had missed a good bit of sleep. Over what, Hawke didn’t know. “Hey.” His voice was soft, broken – perhaps he had been sleeping.

“Hey.” Hawke ached at the sight of Fenris, knew he was a shit person for cutting off all contact for a week except for one hurried mass text informing everyone he’d be away. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine.” Fenris waved away Hawke’s concern and pushed himself away from the doorframe, looking like he wanted to say more. “I…don’t know what to say, but, if you need me, I’m here, Hawke.”

That was more than he could ask for – more than he deserved, at least it felt like. “I missed a lot, huh?”

“A little.” His roommate smiled and dug his hands into his pockets, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “I’m leaving at the end of the week.”

“That hasn’t changed, then.”

“No.” A breath of uncertainty. “It hasn’t.”


	15. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I was getting paranoid and couldn't think up a good way to format this chapter.

Come the morning, Hawke didn’t want to crawl his way from bed. Thankfully for him there was no real reason to even bother; Champ’s was under Varric and Sebastian’s care for the day and the next day would be closed entirely for the wedding. The only pressing matter was Princess’ pitiful whining at the door, which successfully pulled Hawke from bed.

The routine he knew so well was done automatically at this point: make coffee, grab the newspaper, feed Princess before she hungered for the kitchen counters…again. Check to see if Fenris was up – he was. Shower.

Hawke took the first five minutes in the shower to himself, startled from his dream-like state when the door to the bathroom opened. Guess he did manage to forget to do one _mildly_ important thing. “I’m in the shower.” Hawke called in warning, though he knew his clothes were strewn about by the door.

“Do you mind if I brush my teeth?” Came Fenris’ reply, voice broken with sleeplessness.

“Go for it. But no peeking!” While Hawke pondered over how he had enough energy to still joke, he finally started to bathe himself, squirting in an impressive amount of shampoo in his open hand.

The faucet turned and joined the sound of the running shower. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Fenris mused, his tone light.

Hawke pushed back the shower curtain just a crack, his pride too wounded to _not_ reply with something snarky. “ _Rude_!”

“Take it as it is.” Fenris mumbled around his toothbrush, eyes ahead on the sink mirror. When Hawke shoved the curtain back in place, he could hear the muffled laughter from Fenris as the two men tip-toed around the fact that they had missed each other over the last week. It was good to be home. It was good to be back with Fenris. He only hoped the elf felt the same way.

The day was long and filled with nothing, allowing the two of them to make up for their week missed together. Hawke was still understandably worrying about Bethany and Carver, but all thoughts were lost when Fenris started dragging fencing gear from his bedroom. “What’s up?” Hawke asked, frowning as Fenris bent and started to stack his equipment.

“Do you remember my boss, Dolthorn Lavellan?” Fenris wiped at his brow and grunted as he tied up the stack of uniforms.

“Yeah, sure.”

“He said he’d take this equipment off my hands. I’ve been having trouble selling it before moving day so his assistance is….welcome.”

Hawke stood from his seat at the kitchen table and helped Fenris lug out the heavier things, noting how carefully they had been cared for. “No last lesson from you, then?”

That gave Fenris pause, the elf smiling as he straightened up. “Did you want one?”

“Too late now.” Hawke slid the sabre rack to the side of the door, trying not to be sad as he said, “Everything’s already packed up.”

“What about your…” Fenris waved a hand, thinking, “LARPing equipment?”

Very slowly, it all clicked together, and Hawke looked to Fenris with a smile.

*****

“Fenris!” Hawke could hardly see through the sea of bodies, choking as enemies pressed forward in their cloaks of gray. He struck left and right, his knives cutting through their armor and flesh like butter and leaving a path in their wake. Fenris stood at the other side of the room, drenched in blood and breathing hard from his exertion. He met Hawke’s gaze and raised his great-sword in challenge, chin held high with arrogance. Hawke threw himself over the fallen bodies strewn before him, yelling as the two men met in a clash of steel against steel.

Fenris had the upperhand with his power and reach, but Hawke was quick – a cut here, a cut there, heart pounding as adrenaline pumped through his heavy frame. His knife slid along Fenris’ torso, the blade barely making a scratch in his armor. It was all the blunder Fenris needed. He hit Hawke in the side with the blunt of his blade, watching as Hawke crumbled to the ground in a daze. Their gazes locked as Fenris raised his great-sword over his head, about to make the killing blow – when Princess arrived on the scene. She jumped on Hawke’s chest, strategically licking her master’s face in an attempt to distract Fenris.

It worked. While Hawke gagged, his face now covered in dog-slobber, he also managed to somehow kick Fenris’ feet from under him. The elf buckled immediately, hitting the ground with a groan. Suddenly having someone new on the floor, Princess leapt to action and slobbered instead on Fenris despite the man’s weak protesting.

Hawke got to his knees, leaning over Fenris’ immobile body. “Give up.” He whispered, a knife to the elf’s throat. “I have you right where I want you.”

“You cheated, your dirty bastard.” Fenris spat. Princess still held him down to the ground, her little stubby tail wagging like crazy. She was clearly appreciative of all this new fun.

“Street rules.” Hawke finally crumbled into laughter, resting his head on the wooden floor beside Fenris as the two fought for breath. “Princess, _off._ ” His mabari looked insulted at the command but stood regardless, laying out on the floor above the both of them with a loud groan. Their LARP weaponry was discarded on the ground for the time being and would probably remain on the ground for the rest of the evening, along with the pillows Hawke and Fenris had lobbed at each other and the couch Hawke had managed to overturn.

“Do you really have to go?” Hawke murmured after a minute, the question needing to be asked even if he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Hawke.” Fenris sighed with that and rolled to his side, watching Hawke with a tender gaze. “But I’ll return someday. Believe it or do not, Kirkwall has grown on me. It would be a shame not to return and revisit things so familiar.”

“Fair enough. Drinks’ll be on me.” The two men left things at that, much going unsaid, to pack up the car and drive over to Dolthorn’s. Hawke wasn’t one for judging by the book, or at least tried. But as he drove up to the borderline mansion with its perfect lawn and cherry-red car in the driveway, he suddenly felt a bit inadequate in his clunker. “You sure this is the place?”

“It’s the right address.” Fenris unfastened his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, walking to the front door to give pleasantries while Hawke started to grab stuff from the trunk. He glanced up when he heard the front door open, surprised to see Dolthorn there in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Maybe it was the husband with the fancy tastes.

“Just on time.” Dolthorn mused, his accent immediately noticeable – as if the tattoos scrawled in his skin weren’t also painfully noticeable. How had Fenris described him? ‘Painfully Dalish’, on a level equal to that of Merrill from the looks of it. Hawke and he shook hands in greeting, Hawke more busy trying to sneak a peek inside.

The fencing equipment was left inside by the front door, abandoned quickly for Dolthorn to offer them refreshments in the back garden. Fenris held himself a bit tensely besides Dolthorn, though Hawke couldn’t imagine why – the other elf seemed relaxed and friendly, just like another Dalish elf he knew. Though Fenris tried his best to relax, Hawke still noticed the slight flinch anytime Dolthorn gave him a friendly clasp on the shoulder or leaned in even moderately too close.

“You’ll be joining the educational branch in Tevinter, yes?” Finally, something Dolthorn said stood out. Hawke leaned forward in his chair to listen, lemonade in his hands dripping perspiration all over his jeans.

Fenris shifted in his chair and gave a small, agreeable nod, green eyes watching as a rabbit made its way across Dolthorn’s garden. “For the time being. It’s more temporary work, until I find a job willing to keep me full time. Your husband is from Tevinter, is he not?”

“Oh yes.” Dolthorn smiled and nodded to the house. “As it shows. Though he is not fond of certain Tevinter views. Obviously.”

Hawke gave a nervous laugh, sweating all the more when the two elves turned to him. _Someone_ was comfortable talking about racist no-nos. “Sounds like quite the outlier.”

“He tries.” A fourth, unfamiliar voice came from the kitchen, the said Tevinter strolling out into the garden with his head raised high. “Certainly no one else will bother. Hello, love.” He sat next to Dolthorn and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Hello, Fenris. So good to see you again.”

“Dorian.” Even Hawke could hear the malice in Fenris’ voice, the immediate tension between the two making the garden feel 20 degrees cooler. But Dolthorn didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t care, continuing on with no change,

“I think you’ll find the weather quite agreeable.”

“I think that will be the only thing he finds agreeable.” Dorian murmured as he took a glass of lemonade from the table separating them.

“Change must start somewhere.” Fenris said softly, carefully. “I might as well start at the bottom.”

Before the men started to strangle each other, Hawke interjected, almost yelling, “Hey so Dolthorn what’s the Emerald Graves like _yougottatellme_!”

He wasn’t the only one curious, apparently, because Fenris leaned back in his lawnchair and flicked his green eyes back to his former boss. The smile that lit up on Dolthorn’s lean face was surprisingly adorable, especially when he launched into his description. His clan was rather reserved and isolated, making Dolthorn the first of his people to leave and explore the world outside.

He hadn’t started in Kirkwall – first he traveled to the heart of the Inquisition, where he fine-tuned his Common and slowly climbed the ladder until he was somehow helping lead them. “I never thought me, a Dalish, could be part of something so strong.” He laughed, continuing, “Much less leading!”

That was where he and Dorian had met, actually, though the loved that bloomed between them was unexpected him. “I thought he was so snobby. Telling _me_ the history of the elves.”

“I apologized many a time for that.” Dorian huffed, having the grace to blush at the retelling of their courtship. “And you could hardly string together an entire string of Common. I wasn’t sure what you were saying, half the time.”

“Hmm, the others had no trouble.”

“The others weren’t distracted by your handsome eyes.”

“Cullen, maybe?”

A scoff. “Cullen’s straight as a pole.”

“They’re pretty eyes. You’d be surprised.” Dolthorn dissolved into laughter again, making things all the more frustrating when he turned away, not allowing Hawke to tell what color his eyes even were. But overall it felt like they were overstaying their welcome, though Fenris had since calmed a bit. “Oh, but look at the time. I’ve been blabbering.”

Standing from his seat, Dolthorn took their empty drinks and the tray into his hands, leading them back into the house. “Sorry to keep you for so long, Fenris. Here, for you.” Grabbing a small wrapped package from behind the counter, the elf slowly pressed it into Fenris’ hands. “It’s just a little something from us at the office, for all your hard work.”

Fenris shifted nervously from foot to foot, making no move to open the present. Dolthorn didn’t seem to expect him to, for he just smiled. “You’ll keep in contact, yeah? Please do.”

“And Hawke.” Realizing he was suddenly part of the conversation, Hawke turned to Dolthorn and found himself suddenly locked in place by a pair of very pretty purple eyes. “I’ll see you around.”

The drive back to the apartment was quiet, interrupted only by a quick stop at an icecream stand. Hawke had hardly foreseen his first day back involving both a LARP session and meeting Fenris’ incredibly handsome boss, but hey. He had a week to make up for. “Busy day.” Even as he said it, Hawke felt exhaustion wash over him. What was he doing, running around like a teenager? He was too old and jaded for that shit. Hawke took another bite of his cone, conscious of the vanilla running down his palm.

“Mm.” Fenris’ answer was a non-committal grunt, seemingly content with letting that hang in the air between them. Hawke was content with that too. The stars were starting to creep into the sky, and the colors of the sunset had captured his attention for the moment.

Pinks.

Oranges.

Red. So much red.

And then the slowly consuming purples and blacks, bleeding down to the horizon. Hawke ate the last of his cone and wiped his hands clean on his jeans – disgusting. “At the end of your year, you could come work with me at Champs.”

Silence. A deep breath in. “Not for you?”

“Nah. I’m hardly qualified to be a boss anyway.” Hawke laughed, spreading his hands. “Just look at me.”

The heat in Fenris’ gaze was enough to steal all of Hawke’s laughter clean from his chest, struck breathless from the look alone. “I am.”

“I know it’s not teaching, but the pay’s good. The regulars are decent enough to interact with, even if a few fracture your nose.” Hawke licked his lips and looked away, face burning with the heat in Fenris’ gaze. “You could be like our bodyguard.”

“No. I’m done with that life.” Fenris crumbled his trash in his slender hands violently, the wild movement drawing Hawke’s attention. “It will remain in my past.” Unsure what to say, Hawke faltered – just long enough for Fenris to gather his thoughts, gaze locked on the horizon just like their time together in the hospital parking lot. “Is it…a difficult trade?”

“Bar-tending? Hardly.” Hawke still felt tense. Like he should choose his words carefully. “Sometimes you meet interesting folk.”

“It’s a proposition I’ll have to consider. Would you give me a year to think it over?” Fenris was smiling, the tight coil in his back relaxed as quickly as it had appeared.

“Yeah, I think that sounds good.” Hawke answered with a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, things are coming to an end. Don't worry, that E rating will be popping up in the next chapter or two, near the conclusion. I'm not sure how many more chapters I'm going to have...as of right now, I'm thinking at least 3 more. We'll see.


	16. Wedding Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Fenris attend Isabela and Merrill's wedding. It is, as expected, a fucking bast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to preface this chapter by saying sorry. Sorry for taking so long to update. I just recently graduated from college and lemme tell you, that two week period of finals and preparation was crazy. Insane, even. But I'm back! And updating again on a regular schedule. Except for today, of course, because I thought I should upload this chapter as soon as I was done. 
> 
> Enjoy!   
> *also I can't even recite the alphabet backwards while SOBER. I'd fail so many sobriety tests.

On the day of Isabela and Merrill’s wedding, Hawke couldn’t help but feel both overdressed and underdressed at the same time. The wedding was on a yacht, which – how do you even dress for that? Isabela promised it would be casual and fun while Merrill looked on with her big eyes and asked Hawke quietly if he would wear a tuxedo.

Grumbling at the injustices placed upon him, Hawke stared down at his two options laying on his bed. While he deliberated, Princess sat up and snorted violently on his dark-wash jeans, throwing all chance for debate clear out the window. The tuxedo was Malcolm’s, so it was a little worn around the edges. But his father knew how to preserve things well -- had claimed the tuxedo would last him his lifetime. Which…it did, technically.

Pulling himself from his dark thoughts, Hawke slid on the suit and buttoned up, having to suck in only once to get it sitting just right against his large frame. With a little last-minute elf-conscious preening, Hawke finally abandoned all his efforts to check on Fenris’ progress. Fenris didn’t have a full suit, but the clean white button-up and form-fitting black slacks really set Hawke’s heart racing. Looking up from his phone, Fenris smiled and gave Hawke a non-too-subtle look. “I see you’re prepared.”   
  
“Physically, maybe. Mentally, no. I have no idea what we’re walking into.” Hawke took a deep breath and tried not to blush at Fenris’ obvious attention. Though Hawke wasn’t exactly being subtle either, eyes trailing down the curve of his neck. “Except that I was promised an open bar. And rum cake.”

“And your friends will no doubt be married.” Fenris added gently.

“Provided something doesn’t explode, like last time.” Before Hawke could elaborate, the two men passed onwards to the kitchen and he caught a glance of Fenris’ packed room. “Wow. You really packed quickly.”

“My train leaves early tomorrow and I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Especially if there’s an open bar.” Saying it aloud didn’t seem to bring any sort of emotion to the surface, but Hawke noticed the small hint of sadness in his green eyes. Or…at least he thought he did. Hawke cleared his throat and pulled out his car keys, feeling conflicted. “Let me DD, Hawke. I’d rather not risk anything.”

Hawke gave a small nod in agreement, adjusting his suit one last time before realizing something was off. Hurrying off to the bedroom, he returned with his missing bowtie neatly in place. Fenris smiled at the bright red of the fabric, making the man hold still as he gently adjusted it. “There. Perfect.”

With Fenris this close, Hawke could catch the faint scent of cologne on the elf, and did everything in his power to resist leaning in closer. “Did you grab the gift for the brides?” Hawke wheezed, blood rushing from his head in a hurry.

Fenris pulled himself from Hawke’s personal space with a small smirk, turning to the counter and grabbing up the gift bag that held Isabela and Merrill’s brand new ship-in-a-bottle; because what else would be on their wedding registry? To Hawke’s credit, he splurged on the most expensive one in hopes it wouldn’t come off as lame. But it probably would. Everyone ready and prepared at least physically, Fenris and Hawke left for their wedding, arriving on the coast around 5 in the evening.

The sun was starting to set, and with the temperature as chilly as it was, both men were glad festivities were to be held inside. Isabela’s yacht was alone in the water, the colossal beast heaving in the gentle winter waves. Inside, the party was booming, with more guests than Hawke would have guessed. Some he recognized from the bar, or from time with Varric, but most were brand new faces. Scoping out Aveline and her husband, Donnic, Hawke made his way through the crowd to greet them first.

“Glad you could make it, Hawke, Fenris. You two look very handsome.” Aveline smiled, looking surprisingly amused with the festivities. Isabela and Aveline only recently came to see things eye-to-eye, and often argued about everything else, but Hawke was glad to see they were coexisting peacefully for the occasion.

“Thanks, Mom.” Hawke drawled, earning a pointed look from both Donnic and Aveline, who quickly shooed them away. As they departed, Hawke saw Aveline shake her head in exasperation. Though that smile lingering spoke otherwise of her true feelings.

Next in the list was Anders, who was surprisingly by himself. Reminded suddenly of a certain call some two weeks ago, Hawke’s stomach immediately dropped. He still managed to smile and hug Anders, who hadn’t even had time to change out of his scrubs before the wedding. “Hey, good to see you!” Anders smiled and gave Hawke an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “We’re all glad you could make it, Hawke. And that Beth and Carver are doing okay.”

“Thanks, man. But they’re fine, now. I even…well, Marian dropped by.” The surprise in Anders’ face was exactly what Hawke craved, and he was laughing by the time Anders gripped his shoulders.

“She was _there?”_

“Who’s Marian?” Fenris butt in, the grumpiness of his face enough to make Hawke stop chuckling.

“My insufferable older twin. Apparently she decided to cross the sea.” Hawke gave a small shrug, still smiling. “She’ll be coming up to visit sometime soon, I suppose. We didn’t really set a date.”

Anders seemed to mull that over. Of all his friends, only Varric and Anders had ever seen the few fuzzy photos his Mother had salvaged of Marian. The rest of his friends knew, of course, but Marian remained somewhat of a mystery. Hawke gave another shrug and scanned the room for Karl’s familiar face. “Where’s Karl? He couldn’t make it?” The silence that stretched on was enough of an answer, unfortunately enough. Hawke paused. “Oh.”

“It was mutual.” Anders grumbled, eyes avoidant.

“Being single isn’t so bad.” Hawke coughed into his drink. Fenris shifted noticeably at that, prompting Hawke to add, quickly, “But they say there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

“And we are currently anchored at the pier.” Fenris quipped with a frown, his own special brand of helpful.

“What better place to hook up than at a wedding?” Somehow Hawke thought this wasn’t the support Anders was craving, but it was the best he had to offer at the moment – maybe forever. Anders shifted uncomfortably and went back to nursing his drink.

“I’ll be okay, Hawke. Go enjoy yourself.” With little else to do, Hawke and Fenris left Anders to the corner of the party room. Which was unnecessary anyway, because the wedding ceremony started not 10 minutes later and they were all corralled into their respective seats.

Isabela looked stunning. Merrill looked stunning. And Hawke totally cried during the ceremony, watching as two of his best friends in the entire world pledged their love and life to one another. Aveline and Donnic’s marriage had had a similar effect, so Hawke was touched when Varric pressed a tissue into Hawke’s hand. Someone was prepared. The ceremony was the most brilliant clash of Merrill and Isabela he could imagine, right down to the flowers weaved in the women’s hair. Right down to the glitter they were supposed to throw on the newlyweds. Isabela heaved Merrill into his arms and strode down the aisle, met by cheers and so, so much glitter. Hawke somehow found himself covered in the red glitter he was supposed to throw, grumbling until he realized Fenris beside him was in the same exact boat.

Now that the ceremony was done and both Merrill and Isabela were heading to the open bar, Hawke and Fenris decided to take the easier route around and headed outside. “I’m never gonna stop crying.” Hawke sniffled as the cold sea air smacked him right in the face.

Fenris laughed in response and brushed another pile of glitter from his shoulder. “Should I see how many tissues Varric thought to bring?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just…glad. Isabela and Merrill, damn, they’re gonna be great.” Hawke wiped at his eyes and sighed when he felt the immediate sting of FUCKING GLITTER. “Should have convinced them for flowers.”

“That’s not nearly annoying enough to appease Isabela’s twisted sense of humor.” Fenris picked at the cuffs of his shirt, twisting until they were rolled up to his elbows. Hawke took a moment to let his eyes roam, the darkness enough to let him puzzle over the wear and tear of Fenris’ tattooed hands. “Or perhaps it was Merrill?”

“Probably both.” Hawke fell quiet, listening to the music start up inside with a smile. Festivities were certainly starting quickly – though Hawke couldn’t quite hear what the DJ was saying. “Have you ever…thought about getting, you know, married?” The question was so abrupt even Hawke died a bit inside, but no saving grace came to pull him from his stupidity. “Sorry, that’s –“

“I haven’t been to many weddings, Hawke.” Fenris turned to look at his roommate, chin held up by the arm resting on the yacht’s railing. He looked so damn aloof. “Most were…awful. With the bride smiling so hard you’d think they glued her in place, the groom leering at the women in the crowd…money served on silver platters.”

“I know good things can come from marriage. Certainly.” Fenris continued, finally turning away from Hawke to focus on the glittering lights of the city. “I’ve just been missing a crucial part for so long, I’ve never had to think about it.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Hawke paused. “The partner bit.”

“If your friends did anything tonight,” Fenris finally smiled, “it’s they proved weddings can be fun.”

Hawke leaned back from the railing and took in a deep breath, choosing what he could from the conversation, “They’re your friends too, you know.” Fenris might have replied, was smiling as he did, that blush in his cheeks oh so faint, but was cut short when Hawke was hit smack in the head with a bouquet.

Merrill’s head popped over the above-head railing of the second story railing, looking surprised when she saw the two men below. “Hawke! You caught it! I must not know my own strength, to throw it so far!”

Hawke pulled a flower from his mess of curls and smiled, holding the bouquet high. “Contain your strength, Merrill, or your bridesmaids will be very cross with you!” He made a move to throw it back up to Merrill, but she waved her hands.

“Hawke, no, there’s a terrible draft! Just keep it – I was afraid it had fallen in the sea! Though how adorable would it have been for a wee little fish to catch it? Then it would have to get married, I suppose, though I don’t know how—“ Isabela’s head popped up beside Merrill’s and the woman snorted with laughter.

“Good catch, Hawke! Though I don’t know if the rules apply for a man catching the bouquet toss!” She laughed, fluttering her fingers goodbye as she took her wife back to the festivities. Startled by his win, Hawke plucked a flower and put it in his jacket’s pocket.

“What do I even do with these?” He muttered, faltering with the rest of the flowers. Fenris gave the man a shrug and the two walked back inside to join in on the fun. They hurried up the stairs to the second floor just in time to see Merrill shove her piece of cake into Isabela’s face – and then Isabela exacting her revenge in the same manner. Drinks were passed, songs sung, dances horribly danced, and all around it was the best fucking night of Hawke’s entire life. The newlyweds knew how to _party_.

The party had to unfortunately come to an end, as all things did, with Hawke covered in both glitter _and_ flowers and Fenris sadly nursing his third bottle of some non-alcoholic beverage. Hawke threw himself into the back seat of his car and zoned out as Fenris drove them home, listening to the quiet rumbling of the radio. The whole thing felt surreal, really, especially when Hawke realized Fenris would be leaving for Tevinter in less than 12 hours.

Unbidden, Hawke started to cry again. It was silent – or least he hoped so – with fat tears streaming down his glitter-plastered cheeks. Fenris said nothing about it, staring ahead as he steered them safely home. When they arrived home they tiptoed around Princess and ducked into their respective bedrooms, Hawke claiming the shower first. He couldn’t even pretend to be drunk anymore, sobriety hitting him like a fist under the cold water of the shower, especially when paired with the news of Fenris’ departure.

He was lost in thought when he finally emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist for modesty’s sake. What he didn’t expect was Fenris’ figure waiting in the dark. Hawke paused in front of his door and cleared his throat, well aware of Fenris’ unsure, green gaze. “Fenris?”

“Please tell me you’re sober.”

“Super sober.” Hawke replied slowly, licking his lips nervously. Fenris had unbuttoned his white collared shirted to the navel – the most skin Hawke had ever seen of Fenris. “Go ahead, ask me anything.” There was a teasing lit in Hawke’s voice, but he could feel his entire body tensing at the start of this dance.

“12 x 6.” Fenris waited, breathless, as Hawke did the math in his head.

“…72. I think.”

“Recite the alphabet backwards, then.”

Hawke did, struggling at first and then falling more easily into it, and raised an eyebrow when he was done. “I’d offer to do stand on one-leg, too, but my towel might fall.” They both stood in silence at that, Hawke imagining too easily what might happen if his towel _did_ fall. What he would ideally want to happen, anyway, which very much involved Fenris moving from his position in the doorway. “You’re asking for a reason.”

“…perhaps.” Fenris crossed his arms, Hawke immediately cursing himself for putting the elf on the defensive. Hawke was not the brightest bulb, but damn if he would let Fenris go out on a limb and not catch him.

“Do you want to sleep over here tonight?” Hawke knocked on his door gently, well aware only one hand – holding all his clothing, no less – also had the task of keeping his towel up. Seeing the slight confusion and need for clarity in Fenris’ eyes, Hawke managed to add with a squeak, “I won’t keep you up all night, promise. Just until my ass is too sore to continue.”

The atmosphere changed immediately, so suddenly that Hawke barely had time to close his eyes before he felt Fenris’ lips pressed to his own. Hawke groaned and fumbled for the doorknob, falling back into his bedroom with Fenris kicking the door behind them shut with an answering snarl.


	17. A Little Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Fenris decide to take things a bit farther.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait....this chapter is definitely NSFW!  
> *edited because I forgot Hawke was getting out of the shower. Thanks to those who pointed this out! :)

In the loneliest of Fenris’ nights, he had convinced himself that he would never find someone who would peak his interest -- worried that Danarius had ruined that for him, always. In coming to Kirkwall, desperation drove Fenris more than any higher logic. There was too much fear that Danarius would find him, enslave him again, make him suffer for running.

But then Danarius died, and desperation no longer controlled Fenris. There was still an emptiness in Fenris  expected to be filled by the man’s death, strangely unsatisfying even as he drunk himself into a stupor. What was his purpose now? What were his dreams? In some sick way, Fenris hadn’t bothered to think what could happen if he escaped. What all there was to have, now that he was a slave no more.

He certainly never expected Hawke.

He never expected to care so much for any one person.

He never expected to feel so...happy.

And maybe it was the leftover glitter from the wedding, but Hawke seemed to shine radiantly that night. Hawke didn’t appreciate the short chuckle from Fenris, who was already sitting on the bed in anticipation while Hawke nervously pinched at the towel wrapped around his waist. It was a little...bold...to just throw off the towel, leaving Hawke faltering.

Then Fenris was there, both hands on his suddenly bare waist and lips pressed to his own. Hawke almost whined into the kiss, pinned against the wall as they made up for every passionate moment missed, every tease left unanswered. “Your beard is unpleasant.” Fenris mused, his voice deep and raspy. He brought Hawke in for another kiss, apparently uncomfortable enough to complain about it but not bothered enough to actually stop.

With a rough touch, Fenris pulled Hawke back to the bed, throwing the man down on the covers before stripping himself of his own dress-shirt and slacks. Hawke watched with hunger in his eyes, unbelieving as the full extent of Fenris’ tattoos were uncovered. “Maker’s breath.” Fenris abruptly stopped stripping himself, body tense as Hawke slowly reached out to touch the line of tattoos curving under his navel and into his pants. “That’s….a big tattoo.”

“It wasn’t my idea.” Fenris murmured, kicking off his pants and straddling Hawke, who immediately brought his hands up to curve around Fenris’ thighs. “This, on the other hand…” He didn’t bother to finish his thought, busy unbuttoning his shirt as Hawke traced the tattoo with his thumb. They both fell quiet at that, Fenris resting just above Hawke so that their chests weren’t touching but at least their lips could.

Now that the moment was a little quieter, a little more somber, Hawke faltered. Being thrown up against the wall had chased out all his fears and insecurities -- and here they were, crawling right back in. “Should we?” Hawke asked, remembering suddenly that Fenris had a train to catch in the morning. Sex was all nice and good, but Fenris was leaving for a whole year at the end of this…

Fenris cut off Hawke with another kiss, practically growling his ‘yes’ in reply. If that wasn’t enough to distract Hawke -- which it was, for the record -- Fenris grinding against him certainly was. Hawke gasped at the sudden movement against his cock, eyes squeezed shut as Fenris moved his attentions to Hawke’s neck, nipping here and there as his hand palmed what he wasn’t currently grinding against.

Hawke met Fenris’ lips once more, both men lost as they desperately chased their fleeting pleasure. Fenris freed Hawke’s cock from his briefs and gave an appreciative grunt at the sight, making Hawke blush all the more. When it was Hawke’s turn to do the same, he broke from their kissing to get a better look. The silver lines of Fenris’ lyrium tattoo were a surprising sight to be had, all the way down there. Immediately Hawke wanted it in his mouth, growing heated at the thought of the heavy weight resting on his tongue.

With a gentle touch at the hip, Hawke flipped Fenris so he was laying on his back, propped up against the pillows as Hawke moved down on him. Fenris seemed ready to object, to say Hawke didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but before he could Hawke licked a line up the side of his cock. Reveling in the shaky moan that earned him, Hawke continued to explore, mouthing at his balls until Fenris hitched up his legs for more.

Situated between his legs, it was all too easy to remember that Fenris was an athlete. Which each shift and tensing, you could see every muscle moving underneath his dark skin, preparing for what was to come. With no warning, Hawke took Fenris into his mouth, relaxing his throat as he struggled to take in all the elf’s cock at once. But he instead had to ease his way into it, earning some breathless growls of want in the process.

Hawke hadn’t expected Fenris to be so loud in bed, but appreciated the constant stream of feedback he was getting. “Yes, yes, Hawke…!” Fenris gripped at Hawke’s dark curls, struggling not to roll his hips and sink deeper into the man’s mouth. When Hawke gently scraped on the way up, Fenris hissed with want, whispering, “Harder, Hawke.” But Hawke was building a rhythm, one he did not want to break, and focused on that instead.

He pulled off to breathe and paused only a moment to swipe his tongue along the head of Fenris’ cock, tasting the saltiness of the pre there. Fenris trembled as he watched, the hand gripping Hawke’s hair gently urging him back. Hawke went obediently, hands keeping him up while he sunk down on Fenris’ cock, raising his head only briefly before sinking back down and repeating the process, over and over.

The warmth curling in Hawke’s belly was growing with each desperate moan escaping from Fenris’ mouth -- and the sudden, breathless whine from Fenris threatened to push him over the edge. Hawke finally pulled up from his ministrations, eyes trained on Fenris’ gasping expression. The elf finally took a deep breath and opened his eyes, pleased with the sight of Hawke on his knees before him. “You wanted to stop?”

“I want you to save something for me.” Hawke felt ridiculous saying it, even as he lifted himself up to kiss Fenris. “What I said earlier…”

“...understood.” Fenris met him in the kiss, so self-assured as he pulled the man closer. Fenris was rock-hard against Hawke’s belly, Hawke not far behind, but they were both content to kiss at the moment. Hawke was absolutely crushing the elf into the mattress, but Fenris didn’t seem to mind terribly, too busy tugging at Hawke’s bottom lip and reaching down to stroke him. It was too much at once and yet not enough at all, Fenris pulling away to whisper, “Fasta vass. I want to sink into you…”

“That can be arranged.” Hawke squeaked out a little too quickly. Fenris smiled in return and pushed him back, straddling Hawke once the man was resting comfortably on the bed. With an expertised hand, Fenris continued to stroke him, waiting until his cock started to leak profusely before halting his action. There was a bit of a pause in movement, Fenris making the bed creak as he exited, then returning with protection in hand. The cap of lube snapping open was a familiar sound, Hawke’s body relaxing when he felt Fenris’ confident touch.

It didn’t take long to prep -- and Hawke was all but begging by that point, face buried into the bedsheets with his ass offered up. He moaned longingly when Fenris brushed up against him, legs tensing when the elf ran a curious hand from his ass to his cock. “Fuck me already, Fenris!”

Fenris stilled at that, Hawke only able to hear his amused chuckle. Another breath and he was sinking in, pressing Hawke to the mattress with a firm hand. The intrusion was a memory long past, but Hawke reveled in the strange feeling, moaning as Fenris hilted himself completely. “O-oh, fuck, yes…!” Hawke made no attempt to quiet himself as Fenris fucked him raw, propping himself up on his elbows and glancing back to see his lover at work.

Fenris had his head bent, both hands on Hawke’s hips as he thrust, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. The lights were still on, so it was hard to tell, but Hawke could have sworn he saw Fenris’ tattoos flicker once or twice. Regardless, he looked fucking hot like this, all his concentration on working a response from Hawke’s arching body. He hit some spot that finally made Hawke turn back around, earning another amused snort when he started to tremble. “Close?” Fenris sounded strained himself, grunting when Hawke pressed back particularly roughly.

“F-fuck yes.” Hawke groaned with frustration, wanting to last longer, to milk this night out for all it was worth. But his body hadn’t got the memo, threatening to cum any moment now. He had been content to continue to rut against the sheets and come undone that way, but Fenris was pulling Hawke up, pressing himself to Hawke’s back with both of them kneeling.

Continuing to thrust, Fenris brought his lips to Hawke’s, the two men desperately kissing as Fenris wrapped his hand around Hawke’s cock. “Come, then.” Fenris sighed sensually. With Fenris still thrusting inside him and stroking him to completion, Hawke reached his peak with a muffled cry. His legs were already starting to shake from the effort of holding himself up, but he was more determined to get Fenris off as well. 

Just a few more thrusts and Fenris was gone as well, the elf stilling with his release. While Hawke had made an absolute mess of things, at least Fenris was clean, pulling himself free to get rid of the used condom. Hawke allowed himself to fall back on the bed, both mentally and physically exhausted. He watched with dazed eyes as Fenris returned to bed, climbing in next to Hawke and pressing close immediately. “Sorry.” Hawke mumbled immediately.

Somewhat of a surprise, Fenris only smiled. “Why are you sorry?”

“...well, you know. I came kinda...early.” Hawke was loathe to admit it, but that had been easily his most needy performance. “And I yelled at you to stop teasing.”

Fenris propped himself up on one elbow, stroking down Hawke’s side as the man thought back to every sex-glorified moment. “You were fine, Hawke.” Fenris took a sharp breath. “More than fine. It was...better than I could have ever imagined.”

“‘But these things get better with practice’?” Hawke muffled his laughter when Fenris rolled him over and pinned him in place. “Oh, shit.”

“Don’t get too excited.” Fenris said dryly, chancing a quick peck on Hawke’s cheek. “I had fun. And I’m loathe to let you go.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” Hawke escaped from Fenris’ hold easily and pulled the elf into a hug, the two of them quiet as they soaked in each other. “Let’s talk about this practice I desperately need.”

“If you’re so adamant about it…”

Hawke smiled and propped his legs up on Fenris’ hips invitingly. “Is this adamant enough?”

“...Fasta vass.”


	18. Curtain Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke tries to come to terms with the fact that Fenris is really leaving.

“Hawke.” With a gentle hand on his back and a sudden warmth flooding his body, Hawke could only assume it was Fenris attempting to wake him. “Hawke, I have to catch my train.” But it was too damn early in the morning, especially when the hour they actually fell asleep was taken into consideration. Hawke couldn’t remember if they had even bothered to wash up afterwards, but Fenris smelled distinctly of the body wash remaining in the shower. 

“Yer going?” Hawke struggled with the sheets for only a moment before he was able to roll over and look up at Fenris. Dressed as dark as the night, he again looked like the man who had blacked out drunk in his bar all those months ago. But there was something intimately different -- almost like a halo glowed about him. “I’ll miss you.”

Fenris hesitated only a second. “I’ll miss you too.” He bent to brush his lips against Hawke’s forehead, the gesture both tender and bitter. “But I will return.”

Hawke caught his jaw for something better, kissing the side of his mouth drunkenly. “Love you. Be safe.” Too tired to understand the implication of his words, Hawke grinned goofily as Fenris’ expression transformed: with confusion, realization, wonderment, and finally adoration.

“You as well, Hawke.” Fenris dipped low for one last, lingering kiss, and was gone. Hawke remained in bed for another 20 minutes, too tired and sore to move any sooner. Waking up with Fenris’ side of the bed still mildly warm was worse than Hawke thought, sadness washing over him immediately. With a moment’s hesitation, he leaned over and pressed his face into Fenris’ pillow. His scent still lingered there, somehow distinct even though they used the same shower products.

Hawke pulled away before he creeped himself out, leaving the pillow alone as he trudged to the bathroom. Princess was demanding his attention already, little bobbed tail wagging furiously and body jiggling as Hawke scooped out cup after cup of dog food. Didn’t she know Fenris was gone? It didn’t feel right that the world got to be this bright and happy with Fenris leaving. Hawke groaned and sat at the kitchen table, watching Princess scarf down her breakfast, wishing Fenris would appear around the corner looking his usual morning-dead self.

Hawke’s eyes lingered around the apartment, brain still waking as he took in each little piece of personality Fenris had left behind. The TV, once crooked and barely hanging on the mantle, was now firmly screwed in place. There were wine bottles lining the corner of the counter, enough to make any AA officer faint with shock. And the photos on the fridge….Hawke couldn’t even look at them without his lip trembling.

Fenris, with his line of his students, all in uniform. The crew at the bar, drinks held high with grins galore. The worst of Hawke’s snapchats, incredibly enough, a gift that Hawke returned by posting up the worst of Fenris’. Hawke lowered his head into his hands and sighed. Fuck. 

It was only after his hot shower that Hawke realized what had been exchanged in his half-asleep state -- and he all but screamed before frantically throwing his clothes on and bolting out the door. The train station was only a short walk from Hawke’s house, but everything went faster if you ran -- and Hawke didn’t want to waste a moment. He arrived at the entrance some 10 minutes before 8, when the station was busiest, crowds packing the concrete halls. Strangers cast Hawke strange looks as he desperately looked around for that familiar head of white. Luckily for him there was only one train headed for Tevinter, but the damn train was all the way on the other side of the station. Running in the station is apparently  _ frowned upon,  _ because Hawke got more than one person yelling at him as he made his way to the terminal. “Sorry, sorry, emergency!” He called back to no avail, panicking when he hit a line of ticket-buyers.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse  _ me,”  _ Hawke tried to make his way through the line as speedy as possible, which was working alright until some bloke in the back thought he was cutting. The woman letting him through suddenly huffed at the indignity, grabbing Hawke’s wrist before he could continue down the tunnel. “I’m not cutting, if you  _ please _ !”

Hawke shook her off and continued running, ignoring the fact that security stationed about were now asking him to stop. Well, shit. Hawke ignored them -- vaguely hoping they didn’t have tasers, or worse -- to continue sprinting, his sneakers squeaking against the concrete as he changed direction.

There, there, thank the Maker!

Hawke slowed to look up at the board, eyes racing across the flashing red text. Against all odds, he had made it -- because the train had been delayed a sweet 30 minutes. Picking up his pace once more, Hawke made his way through the crowd, ignoring all strange glares because he had finally found Fenris. The elf was sitting at the bench farthest down, head bowed in favor of the book in his lap, fingers tracing along the anticipated next page. It turned, slowly, those green eyes no doubt skipping to the next line of text with ease --

Until Hawke landed on the bench next to him. He leaned back in his seat and sighed, ignoring the sweat on his brow and the wheezing of his breath as he nonchalantly turned and said, “Hey.”

Fenris stared at him, green eyes wide as he took in the ruffled state of Hawke -- black hair a mess, face red as a tomato, shoes not even matching, enormous sweat stains on his shirt. “Hawke.” The noise from the security guards was growing increasingly loud, echoing down the tunnel as they gained ground.

“I love you.” The words hung in the air before Hawke saw Fenris move, the slight shift in his body not enough to go off of. “I said it this morning, accidentally, but I’ll say it again. I love you, Fenris.”

There was a blush growing on Fenris’ dark skin, the elf quiet as he worked for words of his own. “...and I am yours, Hawke.” He corrected himself quickly, “Garrett.” He was not shy about these words like Hawke, and perhaps that was the most intimidating thing about it, the fierce passion behind those green eyes.

“Follow-up thing: don’t go to Tevinter.” Hawke had to at least  _ try,  _ damnit, leaning closer when Fenris finally averted his gaze. “Stay here, with me. Please, Fenris.”

Fenris snorted, but there was a smile on his lips. He was amused. “This is so like you.”

“Begging?”

Fenris rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Hawke’s. “Last-minute.” That sunk in a bit like an anchor, Hawke swallowing as he realized Fenris was, as always, right. “My belongings have already been shipped to Tevinter. I have a lease for the year.” That anchor continued to sink, hitting Hawke’s belly like a hunk of metal. “...but fuck it.”

“Seriously?” Hawke laughed, answered by Fenris’ own chuckle. There was something absolutely magical with those two simple words.

“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life. Fuck it. I’ll stay here, in Kirkwall.” Fenris bit his lip, failing to hide his pleased smile. “With you.”

With a delighted laugh, Hawke embraced Fenris and stood in a rush -- to attempt what, we’ll never know, as he was immediately forced into handcuffs by security.

After a quiet, judgemental scolding and a pink slip with an outrageous fine on it, the two men were promptly expelled from the station. It was a long walk home, made all the longer when Fenris and Hawke decided to walk to Champ’s instead and start drinking. For celebration reasons.

The announcement that Fenris was staying was well-received, and it didn’t take long for Fenris to edit his year-long plans.

His personal belongings were shipped back, the lease passed on to the teacher that would replace him -- and a new job found, leaving him closer to Hawke than ever before. Within a few years Champ’s was talk of the town, its fame built from those who ran it and those who visited. Champ’s lasting fame was good, but there was something even more precious to Hawke now. Having Fenris at the bar raised a lot of new issues -- namely that he was too distracting for Hawke, knew it, and took advantage of it more than once. Makeouts in the closet were forbidden now, after a particularly rough bump sent an entire shelf of Merlot crashing to the ground. Explaining that to Varric had been...fun.

So Hawke and Fenris were now roommates, coworkers, and...lovers. That last one felt especially good to think about, Hawke rushing more than once to introduce Fenris as his ‘grumbly, but perfectly wonderful boyfriend whom I love’. Fenris parrotted Hawke only once, when introducing the man to his sister, Varania. Their relationship felt natural, but it was not without hardship. Thankfully for the two men, hardship was easily overcome with a bottle of wine and a quiet, thoughtful conversation more often than not. Other times Hawke just cried until Fenris forgave him -- but that was not the big kid, adult way of fixing things, and doesn’t deserve to be praised.

Years were flying by with each blink, it felt. Come their 3 year anniversary, Hawke solidified what already felt like a secret understanding by asking Fenris to marry him. Their ceremony was not as majestic as Isabela and Merrill’s, lacking in both glitter and yachts, but it was the happiest day of their lives all the same. They were married, crazy in love, and all was well. All they needed was another dog -- fixed easily enough. Fenris named him Dog.

 


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your love and support throughout this journey! I am done. Done done done. Sorry for the starts and stops, I really did mean to keep things consistent. But when does life allow for an easy path lol? See you all next time!

“Hawke.” He felt their eyes turn to them, felt the weight of his decision still unmade. “What’s our strategy?” They had the obvious advantage at the moment, their team consisting of three mages and four pushers, but they were risking immediate loss if their single healer was killed.

“We strike first -- take them by surprise, keeping them from reaching the mages. Merrill, I need you buffing us as soon as possible. Anders, hit them hard and fast, but fall back as soon as we start taking real damage. Beth, Beth, love, absolutely destroy them.” Hawke turned his attention to his support and gave them a nod. “Varric, I need you to leave them bleeding when the warriors pull back for healing. Make them hesitate chasing us. Isabela, well, you know what to do.”

“Aveline, you’ll be taking over for Carver since he’s a fucking twit and no fun -- I need you backing me up. Fenris, you and me, we’ll take the charge.”

Fenris shifted on his feet, grinning despite the severity of the situation. “I’d like to come out of this alive, Hawke.”

“You will.” Hawke looped his arm around Fenris’ waist and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Because we have _each other._ ” Well aware of the jabbing ‘boo’s from the peanut gallery, Hawke laughed and raised his knives to signal their readiness. The other team from across the field answered with a war cry, rushing into the fray with weapons bared. “To battle!”


End file.
